Unfinished Business
by always-been-a-pirate
Summary: Having her bakery on the block adjacent to that stupid floral shop had always been frustrating for Emma Swan. It was just her luck that the place's owner, an arrogant Irishman named Killian Jones, thrived on pressing her buttons & making life complicated. So what will happen when two stubborn people unexpectedly start mixing business & pleasure? Rated M for sweet & sexy themes :]
1. Hydrangea

**So this ridiculous floral shop AU has obviously been written about a million times by now [fondest regards to Christina Perri on that one], but I couldn't help myself - I feel like this might be a fun approach to take so we'll see what happens! You can see that each chapter will be named after a different flower and I am using my "superior internet search skills" to find out the meaning of the flower that I believe relates best to each chapter. I must warn you up front that this one may get a bit more M-Rated than my last one so proceed with...some form of caution. Now, without further rambling, enjoy :]**

* * *

Powdered sugar. Powdered _freaking_ sugar. She wasn't sure how one little direction - one_ simple_ item on an order form - could be screwed up so badly. She didn't need brown or cane sugar or _freaking_ molasses. How was this so damn difficult?

Emma had been having the morning from the deepest depths of hell.

By the time she had finished packaging the cupcakes the night before for the upcoming city centennial gala, the closed sign had been long shut off and the antique clock on the wall read 1:34 - and yes, that was in the _morning_. She'd driven home in a less than attentive state, thankful that she lived in a small town and hopeful that this fact would mean a lack of law enforcement patrolling the streets. Her eyes and overall posture had been exhausted by a ten hour day and the last thing she wanted was to explain her zombified appearance to whatever sheriff was on duty.

The gala was one of the biggest events to take place in Storybrooke since...well, ever. She had to pull a few strings in order to secure her bakery as one of the caterers, but what use is it to have connections if you don't intend to use them to your advantage once in a while? This event was going to be great for business and perfect for promoting - but currently, it was nothing but endless work and the reason for Emma's tossing and turning well into the hours of an early sunrise.

_Good hell,_ she thought with sympathy for herself. She was just_ so_ tired.

_Well played, insomnia,_ she finally thought after attempting sleep for a number of hours. With no such luck, she'd rolled irritatedly out of her less than comfortable bed far earlier than she planned. The mirror was often a terrible foe on days like today, but she forced herself toward it anyway. Her eyes were bright green although they were set deeper than usual by the dark circles surrounding them. Her hair was a mess - long, blonde, and in need of a stern brush. Her make up was smeared, evidence of a frustrated late night. To top it off, her tired body was moving at the pace of a turtle through peanut butter. As she pulled her hair into a careless ponytail and ignorantly grabbed a mismatched jacket, she realized that she was ironically going to be late even though her inability to sleep gave her much more time that morning to get her act together than usual.

It was this running behind schedule that caused her to run smack dab into that old adage of Murphy's law - _yep_, anything that can go wrong will. Oh and _yes_ \- yes, it sure did.

She was victimized by a traffic jam and a long line at the local coffee shop. A rushed drive had caused her to not only spill her coffee but rather _pour_ it all down the front of the cream and navy sweater she'd chosen to wear. Cursing the cars on the road, her now demolished espresso, and the whole morning in general, she'd pulled into the parking lot with a deep breath. She hoped desperately that she had a change of clothes in her office, preferably located next to the willpower she was going to need in order to get through the day homicide-free.

An embarrassed ambush by one of her employees the moment she walked through the door told her that there was some higher power either testing her or completely screwing with her. It didn't matter which motive it was - she was _not_ amused.

The terrible string of events up to that point had led her to this - a lack of patience and _stupid_ powdered sugar.

"Emma, I swear I filled out the order form correctly. I think maybe it's that they changed the product codes or moved some things around...or maybe they_ didn't_ move things around. So what if maybe _they_ entered the order wrong? You know, I bet that's what-"

"For the_ love_ of God, Anna," Emma sighed, dropping her head to her desk. "_Stop_. I really don't care what happened with the order, but the fact is that _we_ work in a bakery specializing in sweet confections and we are currently down to our last two bags of a product I needed you to order."

"I know. I'm really, really sorry. So," Anna said hopefully although Emma was still silent with her head flat against the wooden surface. "What do you think we should do?"

"It's not 'we' - it's 'you'," Emma replied, trying not to sound too harsh. "I need _you_ to handle this because_ I_ have to go design two hundred and eighty_ freaking_ fondant flowers for cupcakes right now."

"Which I will totally help with...once I fix this_ little_, uh, hiccup. Seriously though, Emma, I just don't know how the order-"

"Anna," Emma said, leaning back to drop her head against the chair. "_What_ is your job right now?"

"To make your job easier..."

"Yes, _exactly_," Emma said patronizingly. "I don't care if you have to go to Timbuktu or Tallahassee, but I need you to get powdered sugar _now_."

"Okay, you got it," Anna said, eager now to redeem herself. "I'm on it."

The door to Emma's office clicked closed and she sighed in a most exasperated fashion. She rummaged through her storage cupboards in search of something to wear and grinned for the first time that day when he hands landed on a pale blue t-shirt that was imprinted with the bakery logo.

_The Sugared Swan_ \- the name was ridiculous, but she _loved_ it. Everything about it.

It had come into creation the same day Emma signed her small business loan. A few glasses - or _bottles_ of wine had Emma and her friend Mary Margaret laughing hysterically as they scribbled ideas on a legal sized paper pad. For some reason, the next morning, Emma found that name pounding in her head right alongside her wicked migraine.

She lifted the tarnished sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor before pulling the fitted shirt onto her thin frame. She smoothed the fabric with both hands, trailing her fingers over the curvy font and the solid black bird.

Even on mornings delivered by the devil himself, she had to admit that she was happy here. Opening the bakery had forced her to lay down roots somewhere for once and in the midst of doing just that, she'd built something of a home for herself in Storybrooke. It made her smile in a way that security and safety never had.

Upon exiting her office, Emma grabbed an apron off a nearby hook and found herself in the process of tying it when she was greeted by a familiar, faithful face.

"Morning, boss."

"I'm assuming you're leaving off the 'good' from that greeting for a reason, August?"

"Ha! Yeah, you didn't really look like you'd appreciate any well wishing at this particular moment."

August was a good guy - dependable, personable, and punctual as far as delivery people go. He'd hired on just after she opened and Emma always felt lucky that such a responsible employee had remained a part of the business since the beginning.

"So the cupcakes," he said, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked into the large cake boxes stacked in a cooler corner of the room. "I'm delivering those today, right? Where to?"

"To the town hall," Emma nodded, tying up the apron strings behind her back and moving to the large titanium sink to lather her hands. "I'm finishing the flowers today and then I'll go place them tomorrow morning so they can be fresh for the gala. I think it starts around seven tomorrow night."

"Sounds good," August said, obviously trying to get a count of the boxes while formulating the most efficient way to load them for transport. "I'll go back the truck in and get a move on."

Emma smiled softly at his initiative and rubbed hands together in preparation as he descended out the back door. _Quiet_, she thought. _Finally_.

Finding a stool off in a different corner, she lifted it over to the smooth, cool metal of one of the preparation tables. Her hands lay flat for a moment as she took in the surroundings she loved - the clean canvas of a soon to be sugary workspace. Little instances like this reminded her how much she truly loved this business and as her heart swelled slightly with pride, she moved to one of the large refrigerators to retrieve the container of fondant she'd set aside for this purpose. Emma gathered an array of tools - a silicone work mat, an assortments of different rollers, a collection of circle cutters, and some luster dust. That finishing touch was her favorite part of the process.

She used a large rolling pin to flatten the pure white confectionery material and then strategically placed the cutters, cleanly producing several circles of different sizes. She moved to obtain a small wooden stick - one she'd use to hold the weight of the flower while they solidified a bit. Her hands moved almost automatically as they twisted and pinched the fondant into a petaled creation. Using a paintbrush to apply some vague gold accents, she sighed happily at her work - the mark of a satisfied artist. _One down,_ she thought with a silly shake of her head.

"Okay, I was able to get us three twenty five pound bags and I called the vendor as well," Anna announced herself, huffing and puffing as she stumbled back into the workspace. "They're going to expedite the original order to us so everything will work out_ totally_ fine any-"

_So much for a quiet, creative environment,_ Emma thought.

"Hey Emma," August said, reentering the recently disturbed peaceful scene. "We have a little problem. I was trying to pull the truck in so I could load everything up by the back door, but someone is already blocking the alley off-"

Oh _hell_ on Earth_ no_.

She didn't even allow August to finish his statement before she stalked to the small window that gave a view of the alleyway. She fumed when she saw the old world calligraphy on the shipping truck that was currently stationed right in front of the only way in or out of the loading area.

_Fairytale Floral_. God, she _hated_ that name.

"I'll be back."

* * *

It was still a bit cold out, but the heat radiating from Emma's temper warmed her in a way that caused her jacket to be forgotten. She forged with purpose across the street reserved for business vehicles only and stormed right into the open back door without any caution whatsoever.

"Where the _hell_ is he, Ruby?"

The shop's long time employee stood over a workbench littered with thorns where she'd apparently been pruning roses. She looked up in surprise, jumping a little at Emma's abrupt and scathing entrance.

"Uh oh," Ruby said, smirking as she turned her eyes back to her work. "I know _that_ look."

Emma moved her angry hand to her hip, waiting impatiently for an answer. Ruby almost laughed, but quickly bit her lip before pointing to the door that led into the retail side of things. Emma clenched her fists in an attempt to steady her sudden infuriation as she stomped in the specified direction.

"No, seriously Robin - I'm just amazed you were able to locate such healthy plants let alone score such a deal. I really appreciate you getting them to us so quickly."

Emma's rage grew as she observed the nonchalant conversation taking place near the shop's front entrance. It was enough to make her want to throw a pile of those removed thorns in that direction.

"Jones, what the _hell_ are you trying to pull?"

The addressed man currently holding a clipboard while signing for payment was clearly_ not_ surprised and didn't even acknowledge her presence as he swirled his flourished signature across the paper. She tapped her foot urgently, even more irritated with the way he was ignoring her.

"Be with you in a _minute_, Swan."

Who the _hell_ did he think he was?! What an insufferable _bastard_. She shouldn't be surprised by him anymore, but he just never ceased to act like a total ass.

"No, _you_ will talk to me _now_! You are so _ridiculous_! You know that the loading area has to be open for passage at all times. You aren't the only one trying to operate a business here!"

He didn't say anything else to her as he quickly scribbled something across the pages on his writing surface. He finally clicked the pen and shoved it into his back pocket.

"Go ahead and unload everything through the back door, Robin. That will _definitely_ be the most _convenient_ way to handle things."

Robin looked at Emma in an almost frightened manner before he nodded, taking the clipboard and bolting out the door. Emma stood firmly as she watched him leave.

"Well, top of the morning to you too, Emma. Although I must admit, I do so enjoy it when your greeting is a bit more docile. This shrill tone has never suited you, love."

If she didn't hate him so much the majority of the time, Emma would have probably been much more likely to admit how devastatingly attractive he was. His hair was dark and messy, pushed back and to the side in a careless way. The simple style kept it from shielding the unbelievable crystal blue eyes - the ones that frequently taunted and teased her. He was wearing a simple dark blue henley shirt that was slightly undone at the top with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows. His jeans were fitted and they trailed down his strong legs to a folded cuff that sat just above his dark brown Oxford boots. He glared at her with a mix of disdain and utmost curiosity.

"Well_ I_ enjoy it when I'm able to make deliveries without having to come raise hell over here first," she continued with abandon. "I don't know how many times we have to have this _damn_ conversation - and I have asked you _repeatedly_ not to call me 'love'."

"Ah, yes, _well_," he said with a shrug as he reached down to pick up a crate of vibrant flowers, his biceps contracting against his sleeves as he did so. "I fail to see why you are so insistent on us sweating the small stuff. I mean, here I thought you'd come to share in my just delivered good fortune."

He carried the crate of blossoms to the counter by the register, setting them down on the surface as a little bit of soil fell out of the wooden container. He was so transfixed with the flowers that he failed to notice the frustrated groan that left Emma's lips as she stalked toward him.

"Killian, I could honestly couldn't care less about whatever good luck you've stumbled upon. I have so much work to do and-"

"The hydrangea flower," he interrupted her with a sly smirk, twirling one of the stems in his hand as he dissected the flower with his intense gaze. "You know, they're originally from Japan and the name is derived from the Greek root for 'water' which I've always assumed to be related to the fact that this particular plant needs a great deal of water to thrive-"

"Killian Jones, I do _not_ have time for a _botany_ lesson right now! I just need you to-"

"You _see_, Swan," he continued, ignoring her outbursts as he ran his fingers over the pristine indigo petals of the flower. "There's always been quite the debate over the symbolism surrounding this flower. Some believe it represents vanity or _boastfulness_ \- probably because it's so lavish and it has so many petals. Yet others assume that it's grandiose presence in a bouquet can show just how grateful the giver is for the recipient's _understanding_."

He was so unbelievably infuriating. Emma rolled her eyes when he finally looked up at her with a knowing half smile, his tongue running across his teeth in an almost flirtatious gesture. He pointed the blossom at her and then waved it around a bit, using it to make some asinine point.

"I just find it strange, Emma, that you'd march into my shop so enthusiastically on a day like today - one where I just received such a beautiful shipment of such an _ironic_ flower."

She glared at him as he all but laughed at her fury. She hated it when he tried to flirt the anger out of her, giving her those seductive bedroom eyes that probably worked on just about every girl he'd used them on - but not her. No, Emma could not _stand_ Killian Jones.

"I'm glad that you delight so much in insane coincidences," she said, arching her eyebrow at him with a challenge. "But I'm really not in the mood for your antics."

He grinned in defeat, holding the flower out to her. She crossed her arms across her chest, refusing to take it. His eyes felt into that puppy dog fashion, full of sadness and pleading as he set the stem next to the register. He looked down at it with a sigh and then back to her, raising his eyebrows playfully without backing down. She caught on quickly - take his stupid, beautiful peace offering and you'll get what you need.

"_Fine_," she said, almost growling as she snatched it from the counter. "Now, move your damn truck, Killian."

"With pleasure, Swan," he grinned as she sauntered away. "Oh and _love_?"

She shut her eyes, trying to remember that murder doesn't bode well for business owners before she turned back to face him.

"What?"

"Have a beautiful day."

That stupid_ idiot_.


	2. Forsythia

**Okay this chapter is mostly just setting the stage for the next one, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway :) let the banter begin! All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

Emma was extremely displeased and extravagantly annoyed at the way her confrontation across the street threw off the entire day, but even more frustrated with the amount of fondant she'd lost to her furious hands and inability to concentrate. She hated how he did this to her. Killian Jones was the _worst_. She had been so angry yet deflated by the time she left the floral shop that she wanted nothing more than to get back into the groove of creating edible flowers for the gala cupcakes, but no - it wouldn't be that easy at _all_.

"Dammit," Emma sighed, tossing a fifth screwed up blossom into the trash. "What the hell is wrong with me today?"

"Well if I didn't know better, I'd say your interaction with Killian this morning might have something to do with it."

Emma had been mumbling the question to herself, but a slam of the bakery's back door told her that Ruby had an opinion to share on the matter. Emma's hands worked the doughy sugar in front of her, trying to appear nonchalant in regards to the statement Killian's estranged niece had just shared.

"Why would you think that?"

"Uh, _duh_, Emma," Ruby answered, arching her eyebrows in an are-you-serious-right-now manner. "You two should see yourselves when you're all worked up like that. It's like sexual tension you could cut with a _very_ dull knife."

Emma's expression slid into a mix of shock and speculation. She wondered if other people thought the way Ruby did. She wondered if the girl had also taken it upon herself to share this observation with Killian. God, the last thing she needed was another innuendo induced reason for him to flirt with her.

"Hardly," Emma said, a scoff leaving her lips. "The only tension between your incorrigible uncle and me is the kind that makes me want to punch him in the face."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself, Emma."

"Is there a reason for your condescending visit, Ms. Lucas?"

"Oh you know me," Ruby said, picking up a spatula to twirl in her hand. "Just dropping by to see what the cupcake of the day is and to ask you about the gala tomorrow."

"It's double chocolate," Emma said, looking up from her work. "What about the gala?"

"Well, I know you're doing the dessert catering and I will be there helping Killian with the arrangements," she explained knowingly. "So I-"

"I didn't know you guys were doing the flowers."

"Umm, yeah," Ruby said with an interesting grin. "Killian apparently had an in with someone."

_Well that figures,_ Emma thought smugly.

"So anyway," Ruby continued. "I'm going to Boston late tomorrow night to pick up my boyfriend from the airport - he's visiting from medical school - but the mayor wants a few of the vendors and apparently the caterers to stay and help shut the town hall down afterwards. I offered to do it since it's going to be Killian's birthday-"

"It's his _birthday_ tomorrow?"

Ruby nodded with a weak smile. _Whoa_. There was _definitely_ more to it than that. Emma could see some strange emotion lingering below the surface of the girl's eyes, but she didn't want to appear too curious. She quickly dipped her brush in the shiny luster and began to apply accents to her not too bad flower. She tried to listen very attentively without looking too intrigued.

"He isn't really big on celebrating," Ruby said with a shrug. "I guess that's why he thought it would be a good idea to work all night - a nice distraction or something."

Emma briefly admired this understanding relationship Killian clearly had with his niece. She didn't know much about their situation - only that he'd taken Ruby in during her last three years of school and once she turned eighteen, she moved out but kept up her employment at Fairytale Floral.

That truly was a _terrible_ name for a charming flower shop owned by a man like..._that_. Adjectives were not and would never be her strong suit when it came to Killian Jones.

"So are you going to be staying late afterwards to help?"

"Well, nobody asked me so I hadn't planned on it," Emma shrugged, her tongue in her cheek. "But why does it feel like you're asking me to do just that?"

Ruby smiled cheekily, her big eyes looking ridiculously hopeful. Of course - she wanted Emma to do her a solid and cover so she could frolic to the big city at an earlier hour.

"Ugh, what do I have to do?"

"Just help take down the flowers and clean up food - just the basics," Ruby said matter-of-factly. "Killian will be there too so you guys can probably knock the whole thing out pretty fast."

Emma froze for a minute. She'd be spending the task-oriented after party with the birthday boy? The thought made her shift on the sturdy stool.

"Fine. But next time I have less than pleasant business with your boss, I'll expect you to back me up," Emma said thoughtfully. "I'm assuming you might have other business here?"

"Of course," Ruby smiled, perking up. "I just need one for today."

Emma nodded with a small laugh, shaking her head. It was normally a task she'd ask Anna to do - packaging up a daily cupcake for a local patron. For some reason in this moment, Emma just felt inclined to do it herself. She let her mind drift to Killian as she popped open two small boxes, flattening the bottom on each one. She had to wonder what had been going through his mind when he decided to take on such a huge event on his own day of milestones. Emma wasn't big on birthdays herself, but working alone all night raised some red flags - even in her mind.

"Oh, hey Emma," Anna said, surprised as she walked toward the register after checking on a customer. "You know, I'd be happy to get those boxed up for you if you'd like?"

_Ah, sweet guilt with a side of needy redemption,_ Emma thought to herself.

"No, it's all good. I, uh...I got it."

She wasn't sure when she'd gotten so protective of simple pastries, but as she placed the first cupcake in the box and sealed it with the bakery's logo sticker, she realized that she had a definite purpose in procuring the additional sweet treat. She wrapped it up similarly, but before she shut the lid of the little container, an idea sprang to life in her mind. She wandered around to the other side of the register, skimming her fingers across several retail items they kept there for impulsive purchases. When she found it, she bit her bottom lip to conceal her satisfied grin.

It was just a single blue candle - one that hung with the select few others off a shallow hook - but she wondered how it would look sunken into the surface of the cupcake. _Perhaps_ not too flashy at all.

Moving quickly, she unwrapped it and pushed it carefully through the thick frosting into the desired place. It wasn't anything grand or thoughtful - just a nice thing she could do for someone who was having a birthday the following day. Hell, she would have done the same thing for a five year old or a senior citizen pushing eighty who happened to swing by to celebrate or despair in being a year older. It was _not_ special treatment - no, not for him.

She tried to appear unfazed as she walked the boxes to the back room, setting them on the surface closest to Ruby. The girl looked puzzled at first, obviously confused by the doubled order. Emma bit her lip and tried to resume her work under Ruby's all too suddenly enlightened expression.

"It's, uh," Emma tried. "On the house - and tell him not to read too much into it. We are _not_ friends again yet."

"You guys as _friends_? Now that's a wild idea."

Ruby gathered the boxes and smirked in a taunting way as she made her way to the door. Emma's mind raced at how she'd gone from screaming at the florist next door one minute to agreeing to be his partner in crime for the gala deconstruction the next.

The only thing she knew for sure was that Killian Jones was sure turning out to be quite the elaborate distraction.

* * *

The next morning, Emma opened the bakery herself in an attempt to hash out any last minute details before starting the fondant flower migration to the gala location. She went out to change the cupcake of the day flavor on the sidewalk sign to salted caramel, annoyed at the use of the outdated chalk in advertising as she watched the dust cling to her jeans. Stepping into the daylight, her eyes were quickly drawn to the shipment being unloaded across the street. The colors were bright - yellows and whites with a few scattered shades of a blazing almost orange. They were gorgeous and not recognizing any of the delivery men, Emma allowed herself a moment to gaze at the natural beauty.

**Killian: It's rude to stare, Swan.**

The ding of a text message came from her pocketed cellphone and the screen told her that somehow, he'd spied her anyway. Her fingers flew across the keys as she cursed the day he'd obtained her phone number.

**Emma: At the pretty flowers? That seems highly irrational.**

Killian made himself now obviously visible, hopping down from the back of the delivery truck to the sidewalk with his phone still in hand. He was almost instantly approached by one of the men who'd been carrying the blossoms into the shop and he set about signing the several pages he usually had to.

His shirt was flannel - a blue and black plaid with the sleeves rolled up. The straight leg jeans he wore were faded and fitted. Emma grinned subtly at his choice of classic sneakers - solid black with the white laces. Her eyes ran along the structure of his frame and the flush of his skin. Even from a distance, there wasn't much of a way to deny his fine physical appearance.

**Killian: Irrational or not, you are sure doing it a lot, love.**

In the midst of worshipping the physique of her annoying neighbor, Emma had failed to notice the way his gaze moved back to her from under hooded eyes and arched eyebrows.

**Emma: Don't flatter yourself. What's blooming in your greenhouse of iniquity over there today?**

**Killian: Forsythias. Just imported actually. They're for the audacious celebration tonight - the one I've heard you'll be attending?**

**Emma: I've heard a similar rumor about you.**

She figured it best not to bring up the birthday thing. It was clearly a sensitive subject in some way - she had no clue but a strong inclination to figure out why.

**Killian: Yes - it would appear that fortune has chosen to favor you with my company, darling.**

**Emma: Oh please. The only lucky occurrence will be if I can make it through the evening without hitting you with one of those wooden flower crates.**

Killian laughed visibly at her technological wit as he gave her a smoldering, sexy smile - one she'd seen many times. Yet it was only now that she began to truly examine it - the curve and color of his lips, the tiny flash of teeth, the sultry dimples. She was probably _imagining_ most of those details since he was a loading dock away and her vision wasn't exactly twenty-twenty. It didn't stop her from catching the blatant, obscene wink he shot her way before typing his final message.

**Killian: I will look forward to seeing you and your lack of violence tonight, Emma.**

She shook her head to hide her blushed cheeks and stomped back inside. How was she now a mix of anxiety and strange possibility? God, this was _so_ dumb.

* * *

Later as she twiddled her thumbs and waited for August to arrive with the truck, she found herself looking up a brief history of the forsythia flower. It wasn't popular and she was simply _curious_ \- well, at least that's how she justified it to herself.

She surfed a few sites regarding the symbolism behind the blossom, but every page said the same thing - a flower representing excited anticipation.

As far as coincidences go, that one just seemed all too ironic.


	3. Dahlia

**Okay :) I'm so, so sorry it's taken me so long to update! A little impromptu visit from some family has kept me from writing these past few days, but I finally got a chance to finish this one up. I'm already working on the next one - which will be quite interesting haha - so stay tuned! Thank you for sticking with me! Your comments and thoughts are so appreciated! As always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

What a_ pretentious_ fairytale. Emma had been adding the careful finishing touches to the cupcake display - an array of gold tipped frosting on coordinating trays that towered on a round table. Masses of people from event planners to opinionated citizens were slowly occupying the large town hall turned enchanted ballroom. The whole surrounding area made Emma extraordinarily grateful that she worked alone much of the time.

She smiled at the thought as she turned her precise attention back to the sugary situation she'd skillfully created. It looked perfect - a real Gatsby-turned-chocolate kind of wonderful. She began to wipe her hands on the apron at her waist and ceremoniously let down the hair she'd gathered into a ponytail to keep it out of her way and her work.

She caught that ungodly amazing scent before she ever even saw him. It was floral and inviting in a way that made her take a deep breath before beginning the visual, curious - although she'd pretend it was annoying - search for the man behind the fragrance. Emma shook her head almost immediately at the inclination to wonder about him - she was there to do a_ job_. She didn't care about the florist across the street at _all_. As far as Emma was concerned, Killian Jones was simply another business owner providing a service for the town gala. Yes, that was it - nothing more.

"You've sure got a way with making sugar look..._sweet_, Ms. Swan."

The voice came in the form of a near whisper at her left ear. Emma was startled at the sudden brush of hot breath on her skin, but she maintained her composure or at least she tried to - until she turned around. That's when the unavoidable gasp left her lips.

He always seemed to look like he'd ruggedly stepped off the cover of GQ and it honestly infuriated Emma to no end. Killian appeared devilishly comfortable in his canvas sneakers and dark, oh so fitted jeans. He wore one of those cozy looking collared sweaters in a tinted tan that illuminated the space around him. Emma could see the way his signature plaid shirt peeked out at the neckline and she did her best to avoid comparing the sporadic blue pattern to the playful color of his eyes.

When the _hell_ did she start taking such an interest in his apparel? Emma suddenly felt a bit self conscious of her own choice of gray leggings with a simple black shirt and sandals.

"Actually, sugar often comes from the aptly named sugarcane_ plant_ so its appearance is not the consequence of my actions," she said, arching her eyebrows to attempt ignorance at his presence. "Honestly, that's a fact I'd think any self respecting botanist would know."

"Hmm, sugar and shrubbery you say," he grinned as he moved seductively closer a few inches. "It would appear we might have more in common than you'd care to think."

His accent often caused him to enunciate the final sound of a word and the end of this innuendo was no exception. It almost seemed as if he was flirting with her, but Emma knew all too well that Killian's sole purpose was to distract her from an otherwise pleasant night of business - just as he_ always_ did.

"What do you want, Jones?"

"Well, I was just stopping by to offer some appreciation," he said almost too sweetly. "It's not every day that I receive a charitable chocolate donation from the bakery of Emma Swan."

So much for _not_ reading into it. _Dammit_, Ruby.

"Yeah, well...I suppose happy pleasantries are in order."

"No need for that, love," he said dismissively as he retrieved a small key from his back pocket and held it up hopefully. "But if you are really in the mood to celebrate, you'd have a drink with me later."

That bastard had somehow obtained the key laced with the tag stating_ wine cellar_ wrapped around the keychain.

She began to roll her eyes, but she saw him shift his gaze to the tower of confectionaries she'd spent hours of sanity on. His fingers seemed to twitch as he bit his lower lip in conjunction with giving her a downright sinful and challenging glare. His touch began to swipe across the fabric of the table, moving far too close to the display.

"Don't you _dare,_" she snapped, abruptly grabbing his wayward hand and feeling the searing heat of his skin. "God, Killian, don't you have _anything_ better to do right now? I'm working."

"So am_ I_, darling," he smirked, nodding to the handful of employees he'd suddenly acquired as they carried in flower after flower. "But come seven o'clock, neither of us will be until the madness is over and that's more than enough time for you to sacrifice a drink with me. You wouldn't truly leave a man alone with his libations on his birthday, would you?"

God, he was really playing_ that_ card. In the midst of their whole exchange, Emma had instinctively wedged herself between the display and the insufferable florist. When she felt his knee softly brush hers, she realized she should have definitely thought the move through a little better.

"Fine. Where should I meet you?"

"Oh, don't worry, Emma," he said quietly, leaning forward. "I'll find you."

He moved backward briskly, but Emma did not fail to notice the cupcake he'd snatched in the process. Killian skillfully moved out of her range and looked back for a moment only as he began to peel the silver paper off the bottom. Her mouth snapped open to discreetly scold him, but before she could get a word out, he and his overly confident smirk had disappeared.

What an _ass_.

* * *

Emma loved being behind the scenes at big events like this one for the same reason she preferred to work in the back of the bakery. There was something about observing from a distance that made the approval of your work much more satisfying. With the list of no less than extremely wealthy guests occupying the party location, she had quite the opportunity to do just that. It was truly refreshing to see people who normally complained about anything allow themselves to enjoy life for a moment under the influence of a cupcake. The 'sugary mood shift' always made her grin.

"Have I not told you about the implications of staring, Swan?"

Killian's condescending, teasing voice was a bit louder this time and Emma glared at his attempt to expose her. He smirked familiarly and moved toward her. He truly had a lacking concept of personal space and Emma's breath hitched in a way she hoped he didn't notice at the proximity change.

"What makes you think I'd ever listen to any warning _you_ have to give, Jones?"

"Wishful thinking I suppose," he sighed with a sarcastic smile. "Although I assume there's no harm in watching people enjoy your work."

Emma gasped softly but turned away quickly after, feigning annoyance. He always seemed to see _right_ through her.

"The flowers are beautiful."

She bit her tongue, almost embarrassed at the way that unexpected compliment just rolled off her tongue. His eyes quirked up in similar surprise.

"Yeah, I, uh...I suppose they are," he stumbled in a rare fashion. "They turned out a bit better than even I expected."

Was that _humility_ from Killian Jones? The night was sure taking an interesting turn.

"I'm sure you recognize a few of the flowers from your recent rant and sequential gawking," he flirted, shifting to stand at her side as she rolled her eyes. "But those - _those_ turned out quite wonderful."

Emma followed his pointed finger to an flourishing arrangement just across the way that seemed to beautify the entryway to the highly regarded event. It was stunning - as much as she hated to admit it. She subtly shook her head to avoid imparting any such admission to Killian.

"Dahlias."

Emma's eyes snapped back to his, the deep blue of his vision pulling her in. He had a way of answering questions she didn't even know she wanted the answer to.

"Why those?"

"It's a symbol for elegance - for dignity," he said with a bit of a smoldering stare. "Seemed fitting."

Emma pried her gaze away and forced herself to intricately observe the variety of big and small petals. Any other area of study would be preferred to a staring contest with Killian Jones.

"So, Swan," Killian said, his arrogant grin returning as he held up a bottle he'd surely swindled. "You ready?"

* * *

"Are we even supposed to be up here?"

"I highly doubt it."

Emma found herself looking down over the entire event from the rafters of the old town hall. Killian walked - perhaps 'balanced' would be a better word - carefully as he held his footings on the wide wood planks. It was fascinating to watch him move stealthily across the sporadic supports while keeping the neck of the champagne bottle firmly in his grip. It was much less entertaining to see the cockiness in his expression when he reached out to help her.

_Bastard_, she thought as she offered her hand with a glare.

He adjusted their positions to a too-close-for-even-the-smallest-ounce-of-comfort state as he helped Emma cross a couple of the thicker beams to a place where they could dangle their feet against the scene below.

"The keg tag said 'wine', didn't it?"

"Yes, but the celebration _demanded_ champagne."

Emma's mind flickered back to Killian's birthday. It was clear he wasn't eluding to that, but at the chance of hopefully annoying him, she couldn't help herself.

"Perhaps tonight is cause for more than just one party."

"Ah," he said, popping the cork in a nearly silent style that Emma didn't know was possible. "Not necessary honestly - although I do revel in a gift from your bakery on any occasion. We should make this sugary gesture a regular thing, don't you think?"

Was that a _compliment_? Emma tried to tell herself definitely not as he arched his eyebrows flirtatiously at her. Killian Jones didn't typically direct any form of genuine flattery her way so she didn't see why he'd start now.

He made his way to where Emma had found herself actually quite comfortable and slid down to a similar position of feet hanging down and the need to make easy conversation of some kind. Emma decided it best to fill the silence first.

"So why flowers?"

"Why cupcakes?"

"I asked you first."

Killian grinned and sighed a little laugh as he grabbed two plastic cups his thieving hands had obtained from somewhere. He took something of a deep breath as he swirled champagne into each cup, his fingers pressed hard on the glass neck of the bottle.

"It wasn't exactly my original plan," he explained, handing her a cup. "More a matter of circumstance I suppose."

Emma wondered what that vague statement meant. He took a cautious sip and looked away for a moment.

"I was going to the university in England to study botany some time ago. My sister - Ruby's mother - died of cancer just as I was finishing my time there. She was a gardener of sorts. There wasn't anything the field of medicine could do for her and I guess it was a speculation entertained. Maybe there would have been another way or something," he said in a bit of an objective tone. "But Milah...my wife - she, uh, wanted to open the shop."

Killian Jones was _married_? Emma had no idea. She suddenly realized just how inappropriate their current position was, but before she could put any space between them, he continued quickly.

"Don't worry, Swan - she's not around anymore."

"Oh," Emma paused a moment. "I'm, uh...I'm sorry."

"Nah, no need to be," he chuckled, tossing back the rest of his drink. "She didn't seem to like how long it was taking to get the business to get off the ground. She took off actually - yeah, with the financial planner who had been advising the whole venture."

_Yikes_. It sounded like it could have been quite the nasty split. She took a jagged breath as she looked at the forcibly unaffected man from the corner of her eye.

"We divorced and I took a pretty big hit on the whole thing so I liked the idea of getting the hell out of Ireland after all that. Just didn't feel much like home after...everything - after everything that happened."

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but nothing left her lips. He noticed her stuttered gesture and smiled.

"When I ended up here, it seemed like a way to implement my knowledge of the field and perhaps keep a bit of the family sense about," his voice hitched slightly. "It may have been a part of what brought Ruby here as well - which I'm glad for."

"Because she's cheap labor?"

"No," he glared with an interesting smolder. "Because her father has quite the temper and under his roof was not the ideal place for her to be."

Emma bit her lip. She didn't realize their conversation had evolved into such a real sense, but sometimes she forgot amidst all the fury and tormenting that Killian was only human - and one with an apparent array of demons.

"So," he said, sighing and looking at her with an expectant grin. "What rolled you into the business of bakery owning?"

"Nice pun," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Well...I-"

Emma stopped briefly once she turned her head to meet his gaze. The honesty of the entire situation seemed to have thickened the mysterious tension that often existed between the two of them. Emma was almost alarmed by the dark blue eyes that locked onto hers without any intention of letting up. Her mouth opened softly, resting slightly agape as he waited and watched her every little motion. She flexed her fingers holding the nearly empty cup as Killian slowly ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Maintaining the same frozen position, her breath growing unstable and shaky. He began to shift, leaning forward tentatively until his hand reached the side of her face. Emma didn't mean to fall into his touch, but it only took a fraction of a moment for her to melt sideways into his gentle gesture. He noticed the effect, smiling sweetly as he began to descend forward-

A voice suddenly boomed over the sound system as the mayor used the microphone to announce the end of the gala by thanking citizens for attending and invoking the shuffling of chairs and bodies. The sound made them both jump in surprise and Killian jerked backward, a movement that caused Emma to do the same while blinking rapidly. She set the cup down with a trembling drop and chanced a look at him. His eyes looked shocked, but also a strange type of disappointed. She tilted her head as she continued to examine his expression.

"Well," he finally said, clearing his throat and smirking in a true-to-Killian fashion. "Looks like we've been summoned, love."

"Yeah, it, uh...it looks that way."

It was strange for Emma to be without a clever reply. It was even more odd for her to not scold his use of affectionate pet names. However, the most interesting and very out of character detail of the whole scene was the way he'd almost..._kissed_ her? Was _that_ what had just happened?

Killian stood, preparing to navigate the beams to the slender staircase in order to fulfill their clean up duty down below. He stopped as he reached the solid landing, holding a warm hand out to assist Emma. She paused a moment, looking at him studiously with furrowed eyebrows. His eyes had lightened - a playful light color that welcomed her.

"Coming, Swan?"

His lips had quirked up into that familiar sarcasm and teasing state that she'd come to expect and loathe for as long as she'd known him. It was far from the smoldering, sensual energy that had been building between them only moments ago. But she'd _seen_ it now - he wasn't totally like that. Not all the time anyway - and maybe not even at _all_. Maybe this whole facade of his was an _act_.

"Yeah, uh," she said, snapping out of it and softly shaking her head. "I'm right behind you."

Killian winked, a sassy little action he seemed to reserve for her as he used it constantly when they were in each other's presence. He grinned genuinely in a way that might suggest he was glad she'd agreed to keep him company - a whole _other_ version of Killian Jones making itself known. As Emma followed the dark haired, unbelievably blue gazed man down the narrow stairs, she could only ponder one thought.

Who the _hell_ was this guy?


	4. Tuberose

**Okay here's the next one! I'd like to thank President's Day and a four hour ride home for giving me some time to write this one :) I hope it has the desired effect! I'm glad many of you seem to be enjoying it so far. Thank you for reading - you are all awesome! As always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

Emma was a ridiculous hot mess of emotions by the time she dropped the box of cake stands on the floor of the bakery. She sighed deeply as she slid onto a nearby stool, allowing her forehead to meet the cool metal of the tabletop.

The whole night had been a success really. The set up had been flawless and the compliments had been nearly endless. It had been a great business promotion - one that would hopefully provide more charming opportunities of a similar nature.

The only problem had been Killian Jones, infuriating florist extraordinare.

She shouldn't have acknowledged the beautiful flowers. She shouldn't have consented to drinking commandeered alcohol with him. Most of all, she should _not_ have allowed him any fraction of opportunity to kiss her. What in the seventh circle of _hell_ had she been thinking?

The act of taking down the gala's set up had been pretty silent between them - not quite awkward but rather tension ridden in some unexplained but perhaps desirable way. She'd caught his eyes on her more than a few times, but with his variety of personalities she had seen that night, it was impossible to decipher the glances. Killian Jones was some sort of flirty, seductive schizophrenic. Yes, _that_ was the _only_ valid explanation.

Emma had loaded the bakery's SUV - the one she had purchased a few years ago in protest of a van that would be far too difficult for her and her poor depth perception to operate - and sped out of the town hall parking lot the second she was able to slip away. Killian had still been finishing up gathering the flowers and their coordinating containers, but she couldn't risk sticking around to be sucked in by his charm and raw, strange magnetism.

Emma lifted her head with a loud sigh, keeping her arms folded and stationed on the frigid surface. She stared blankly for some unknown stretch of time. She was frustrated. She was confused. She was intrigued - in the most dangerous way.

Shaking her head, she stood up and took a quick look at the digital clock just above the storage shelves. 11:26. A musician would have found some sheets, scribbled a couple of varying notes, and composed some sad melody. An artist would have found a way to plaster their feelings on a bare canvas with a mix of paint, charcoal, and unlimited emotions. Emma was neither. She owned a bakery - so she was going to do what she always did. She was going to bake...something.

She illuminated the entire room quickly, flipping on the row of light switches. Moving to a large cabinet, she reached in to retrieve an assortment of bowls and tried to escape the sudden guilt that began to build in the back of her mind. It was the poor guy's _birthday_ and she bolted out of there as quick as possible, leaving him to what was probably his own confusion without so much as a party streamer. _Not exactly the most thoughtful gift,_ she thought degradingly as she began to measure out dry ingredients to combine.

She only chanced a look out the window to see if his truck had returned from the town hall, hoping he had managed the rest of the clean up on his own. Of course he would have - he didn't need _her_ to oversee him. Instead of a dark shop, she was met with a soft set of store lights. It was still somewhat dim, but bright enough for her to see him. The man she'd been pondering stepped away from the shadows as his skillful hands moved carefully over the waxy leaves of a few different plants.

Killian looked the iconic picture of focused. His eyes were fixed as his hands pressed down firmly on the soil. He began to sink a thin support stick of some sort into the surface and then cut a small piece of white string from a wooden spool. Emma couldn't see perfectly, but she knew he was using the string to anchor the plant and encourage it to grow upward. He moved carefully and gently, caring tenderly for the stems and minding the leaves.

Emma began to feel very intrusive as she watched his sensual way of working. She wondered if he knew she was watching. It didn't appear that way - at least not _this_ time.

**Emma: I'd think such an educated man would know that plants typically don't grow at night.**

Killian's head dropped to his lap, the sure sound of an incoming text startling him a bit. She watched him complete the knot and check the supporting string with a weak tug before he retrieved his phone from his pocket. A slowly spreading smile covered his lips as he tilted his head to the glass adjacent to hers, giving notice to her sneaky presence. His eyes drifted back to the phone screen as his fingers tapped the keys before he glanced up at her again.

**Killian: It's quite fortunate for you that daylight is not required to observe the local scenery from your window, Swan.**

She rolled her eyes at his reference to her spying, knowing that he couldn't see her but hoping he'd know what her typical response was when he made an arrogant comment. Emma set her phone on the nearby counter, resuming her own activity without noticing his continued stare. As she began to crack eggs, she watched her phone light up in alert.

**Killian: What are you doing over there? Besides participating in stealthy observation...**

**Emma laughed to herself, setting the broken shells down in an empty bowl.**

**Emma: I guess I had a desire to bake.**

**Killian: At 11:30 at night?**

**Emma: It would appear that way.**

She looked back to the window from hooded eyes to see that Killian was now attentively standing with his phone, typing what was sure to be some witty remark.

**Killian: So you're something of an insomniac, eh?**

Now how the hell would he know that? She wondered if he'd noticed her at the bakery during the late night hours before. Perhaps this was one of those it-takes-one-to-know-one cases. Emma bit her lip subconsciously before typing a short reply.

**Emma: Perhaps.**

**Killian: Can't say I'm completely surprised. So what are you creating in your late night kitchen?**

Uh, _duh_. Cupcakes. Emma figured that part should be obvious. She still had the jury out on what kind - she had to check the fridge to see what she had available.

**Emma: So far, just a big mess.**

**Killian: I hear ya, Swan. I'm opting to care for these plants that are honestly fine on their own rather than sorting business receipts and budgeting for next month.**

**Emma: Yuck. Worst part of the job. I don't envy your current midnight endeavor.**

**Killian: Agreed. Good thing we are here to keep one another company :)**

**Emma: Oh yeah. Quite effective from a distance, right?**

Something about that message felt weird the second she sent it. Killian seemed almost disappointed as he peered down at the screen, smiling softly and clicking the lock key on his phone. She watched him set the device on the table nearest to where he'd been working before and he slid a chair next to that same surface. He collapsed carefully, propping his elbows up on the table and running his hands over his eyes. He took a deep breath and pulled an unexpected pencil up behind his ear as he tugged a pile of crumbled documents into view. He appeared so contemplative and if Emma was being honest - he almost looked sexy in an oddly diligent way. Her fingers danced toward her phone on the metal tabletop.

**Emma: If you'd like to have less distant company, you could come over here. I mean, if you want to.**

What on earth was she thinking? Emma quickly moved away from the window, not wanting to see the smug grin he'd probably have at her invitation. She stirred the contents of the largest bowl violently, conjuring up a thick batter in no time. After what felt like forever, the little chiming noise announced his reply.

**Killian: Is the back unlocked?**

Emma arched an eyebrow at his question - was that an acceptance?

**Emma: Yes.**

Her fingers drummed nervously for some reason. The screen glowed back at her. She didn't know if he was coming by or not and she didn't want to seem anxious by texting him for clarification. So stupid. The silence filling the bakery was suddenly stifling, but fortunately it didn't last long. The opening of the heavy back entrance made her jump involuntarily.

"Ah, Swan."

Killian moved into the room amazingly balancing a shoebox full of receipts, a hopefully honestly procured bottle of wine, and a bundle of tiny white blossoms tied with a thin burlap string. He grinned mischievously, but seemed genuinely grateful for her offer.

"Killian," she nodded, resuming her motions with the wooden spoon and watching the coordinated man. "I see you've brought along multiple kinds of work."

"Ah, yes," he laughed, holding up each object to explain. "Well, paperwork tends to make me want to drink so I figured I'd attempt to get you to indulge with me and these - well, these are...for you."

He held the flowers out a little less than confidently, raising his eyebrows as if willing her to take them. She complied after a moment, gripping the stems softly.

"Tuberoses," he said, a half smile turning up the corner of his mouth. "They must have been delivered after I left for the gala. Ruby probably won't have them trimmed up and out for purchase until tomorrow afternoon so consider _yourself_ exclusive, love."

"Oh, how _sweet_," she said with weak sarcasm. "But you didn't have to bring bribes."

"I know," he grinned suggestively before looking around. "But if you have a vase, you can carry on and I will put them in water for you."

These flowery interactions were adding up to be quite suspicious and Emma was sure that this one was highly likely to be no different.

* * *

Emma smirked and turned to preheat the oven. She'd set a thin glass vase on the countertop and he'd reached across to pull it closer. She snuck a quick look back at him only to find him completely engrossed in the task of arranging the blossoms. Laughing softly to herself, she began to pour the smooth batter into the foil lined cups of the pan.

"What?"

Apparently her little chuckle had been enough to pull him from his trance.

"Nothing," she grinned, turning away. "Just...nothing."

"No, that's not fair," he said as he moved to lean against the cupboard next to her. "Tell me."

"Well, you just looked very intense while you were doing that," she said with a shrug as she continued to measure out each future cupcake. "I never imagined that Killian Jones might actually care about something so much."

Emma lowered her eyes to the texture of her creation, smoothing over the contents of each cup and working out the small indents of the foil that could possibly change the shape of the final products. She was grinning with a small stretch of her lips at the perfectly prepared pan when she felt his gaze burning a hole right through her.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied with a gentle smile, mirroring her response from moments earlier. "It's just that I could say the same regarding you."

* * *

The next hour dissolved almost too quickly as they shared the Chardonnay he'd brought - once she stopped teasing him about his all too masculine choice of wine of course. Emma found herself noticing little details about Killian that she'd never seen during her arguments with him. His eyes crinkled happily at the sides when he laughed and his deep blue stare grew even darker when he listened intently - which he seemed he always did. Throughout the entire conversation, his business receipts didn't vacate the box, but the cupcakes did bake beautifully and found their way to a metal cooling rack.

"So why that flower?"

He arched an eyebrow at her as he tapped his fingernails on the base of the wine glass.

"I mean I know you have a whole shop full of variety," she said, lifting and tilting her glass toward his neighboring business. "So why'd you bring that one? What does that one mean?"

"Ah, well," he grinned wildly, scratching absentmindedly behind his ear. "Aside from the fact that their recent delivery made them desirably fresh, the tuberose is quite the interesting flower."

"According to you, they _all_ are."

"Absolutely," he said, eyes narrowed playfully before continuing. "But this one is most definitely intriguing. The tuberose is a rare night blooming flower and it has, as you can tell, a very strong fragrance."

Even over the scent of the heavenly vanilla baked sweets, Emma could still pick up on the amazing smell. It wasn't overly floral, but relaxing and tempting in a way she really liked - or maybe part of that was the wine. Yes, _definitely_ the wine.

"So what's the symbolism here?"

"Well," he began, biting his lower lip. "It's a flower representing dangerous love and desire - but I assure you that the flower's meaning didn't _exactly_ cross my mind until just now."

"Oh _yeah_, I'm sure it didn't."

He smiled curiously at her in a way that made her want to challenge his expression. She tore herself away and began gathering ingredients for a simple frosting. She began eyeballing quantities - the wine and her fluttering stomach made her pretty positive that using a measuring cup wouldn't be helpful anyway. She began to swirl the spoon when his stare finally caught her.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"With that," he pointed, a goofy smile on his face. "I'm no master chef, but aren't you supposed to use specific amounts of each thing?"

"Yes, but I've been doing this a long time," she said, raising a taunting eyebrow. "Don't you trust me?"

"I never said I didn't," he said, adorably defensive. "I just-"

"Well, here," Emma teased, holding out a quick spoon toward him. "Try it."

He furrowed his eyebrows at her, running a slow tongue across his bottom lip and grazing it with his teeth for good measure. He didn't take the spoon, but instead, he stood up and walked around to invade her space with a fiery closeness. He reached for her forearm, pulling it up into view so Emma could see where some stray sugar had covered a small area of her skin. He pursed his lips seductively before moving closer and dragging his tongue across the wayward frosting on her arm. He repeated the action once more before covering the entire area with his soft lips, allowing his open mouth to remove any remaining evidence. Her breath hitched harshly as she forced down a moan that was brought on by his warm, predatory contact. The sight made her mouth water and gave a whole new meaning to the term "sweet tooth".

"I guess I should trust your judgement," he said softly as he pulled back with a wink. "There isn't anything wrong with it at all."

As she stood staring speechlessly at the man who driven her crazy for years but had also been dangling in front of her the entire evening, she finally admitted it to herself. She _wanted_ Killian Jones - and she wanted him _bad_.


	5. Poppy

**Dun, dun, dun :] Okay, this was a fun chapter to write. I didn't expect it honestly, but I just couldn't help myself. I'm having a lot of fun writing this so I hope you're still enjoying it! I love to hear your comments and thoughts so feel free to share anything you'd like to :] as always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

This was _not_ supposed to happen. Emma dropped her head back against the leather of her office chair. She'd been playing the whole night on a loop in her mind since the moment he left the bakery the previous night, descending into the darkness in a disgustingly nonchalant way.

She hadn't slept much - that was typical of course - and though every inch of her felt completely exhausted, her head would not stop its relentless reeling. It had been less than 72 hours since she'd stormed into the flower shop with a vengeful glare and a take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude. How was it possible that her long standing dislike of this man had taken such an abrupt turn in the other direction? There was just _no_ way - Killian Jones was the absolute _worst_. She'd spent years developing that now useless opinion.

Emma covered her flushed face with her frustrated hands, shielding her eyes as she took a flustered deep breath. She willed her continuous mind to think of _anything_ besides the florist next door, but it was a fruitless pursuit. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the infuriatingly handsome man and his unwieldy blue gaze. She could still feel the warm, pulsing breath that hit her skin when he moved far too close. She could clearly recall the scent he carried - a bit floral but with a spiced, musky type of undertone. She saw the way his hands moved gracefully, navigating and arranging each individual blossom of his mysterious bouquet. Most of all, she was unable to forget his frosting turned fiery flirting action. It was hard to dismiss the way his smooth lips twitched up as they met her forearm, the way his grip was soft yet possessive, the way he drew his tongue decisively along her chilled skin-

A harsh knock on her office door interrupted the reflecting daydream and Emma jumped, startled at the intrusion. She cleared her throat and grabbed a random stack of papers to sort through, trying desperately to appear busy.

"Uhhhh. Yeah, come in."

"Hey - good morning, Emma," Ruby smiled, her greeting kind and just sweet enough. "I thought I'd stop by and make sure everything went okay last night. I seriously appreciate you so much for covering for me."

"Oh - yeah, uh, it's no problem," Emma stuttered, tapping a pencil softly on the desk. "It was fine. Everything went fine."

_Yeah, if you'd call Killian's sugary seduction 'just fine'_, Emma thought to herself.

"Perfect. You're a lifesaver," Ruby replied with a simple grin as she reached to the bag slung across her shoulder. "Here - for you."

Emma was taken aback briefly by the vibrant red, ruffled bunch of flowers Ruby suddenly extended her way. Each one had delicate petals and a dark center with the long, slender stem doing its best to support the blossom. She noticed they'd been tied together with some very recognizable twine.

"Oh, umm - what are these for?"

"They're for you," Ruby beamed repeatedly as Emma grasped the bouquet. "I wanted to say thanks."

Emma arched an eyebrow with skepticism. She wondered quietly if this gesture was entirely Ruby's doing or if she'd conspired with a certain someone.

"Oh...well, thanks," Emma said curiously. "These looked like they are pretty new to the shop...I mean, they look fresh. I'm assuming you guys got them in recently?"

"Yeah, probably. Killian chose them."

Freezing solid, Emma's eyes grew wide. She tried to keep her breath even as she quickly set the flowers down, affected by his action even without him being present.

"He, uh...he did?"

"Yeah," Ruby replied, fiddling with the strap of her bag and paying little attention to Emma's uneasiness. "I just asked him what new in the store and told him to pick out something you might like."

So now he was asserting his knowledge on flowers _she_ might prefer? Emma felt her heart skip a beat as she glared down to the brightly colored petals.

"Well, they're great. I...thanks, Ruby."

"Likewise," Ruby nodded with a smile. "I guess I should be getting back. See you soon?"

"Yeah, uh, grab a couple of cupcakes on your way out," Emma offered abruptly, knowing exactly why she was offering an extra. "Red velvet for today."

"Mmm, with pleasure," Ruby conceded happily. "See ya."

As the door clicked shut, Emma propped her elbows up on the desk and dropped her exasperated face into her palms, running her hands up her face and to the top of her head before trailing them down her hair. She sighed heavily and peered at the cellphone sticking slightly out from under her scrambled stack of papers.

**Emma: Red flowers and red velvet cupcakes - it appears you might be attempting to copyright my schedule, Jones.**

She dropped the device back to her desk, peering out her office window to the wind shaken trees. A quick buzz snapped her attention back downward.

**Killian: I don't recall you having a monopoly on that particular color, love. Perhaps it's just an act of serendipitous nature.**

**Emma: I'm not much of a believer in your happy little coincidences, Killian.**

She _had_ to quit using his first name. It should be nothing but 'Jones' - businesslike and no nonsense.

**Killian: Regardless of beliefs, those flowers came in all too early this morning. I was shaken from a late night slumber to meet the delivery man well before opening hours today. So due to my thoughtful deed, I'd dare say you owe me one.**

His logic was so insanely flawed, but Emma couldn't help but wonder where he was headed with this.

**Emma: I do? What exactly are you hoping to collect?**

**Killian: Well I have a shoebox of documents that was largely neglected due your baking spree. I think it's only fair you rectify this situation by playing accountant tonight.**

Emma bit her lip at his request. Did she trust her newly acknowledged feelings enough for that? Should she make up an excuse? Was this even a good idea? _Dammit._

**Emma: Alright, but only because you're twisting my arm so torturously.**

**Killian: I'll try to keep the torture to a minimum tonight. Meet me at the shop around nine.**

Emma dropped her head back to the smooth wood of the desk. What had she just gotten herself into?

* * *

It had been raining on and off the entire day, mirroring the coming and going of Emma's anticipation laced with anxiety. She had tried to consume herself with work - drowning her concerns in flour and supply orders - but it was impossible to think of anything in the bakery without remembering the borderline obscene event in the kitchen the night before.

She barely made it to lunchtime before she became lost in a stealthy internet search for the meaning of the poppy flower - an endeavor that proved to be even more confusing.

Eight thirty that night found Emma in front of her floor length mirror, contemplating what one was supposed to wear when 'owing somebody one' in a businesslike sense - because this thing with Killian was business and business _only_. She had left her hair down - the curls had been ravaged by the rain earlier that afternoon, but a quick twirl of a flat iron fixed that. Her attire at work had been a bit formal - she'd been wearing a blazer and flats for a wedding cake consultation with the mayor's son and his royal pain-in-the-ass princess of a fiancé. She opted to change into something more cozy, hoping that comfortable clothes would assist with creating a similar environment. The reflection in the tall mirror showed dark leggings, a plain deep neck tee, and an oversized sweater cardigan that was acid washed and slate gray. She dug her dark purple rain boots out of the back of her closet and flexed her feet against the hard rubber a few times to work out the stiffness.

8:43. Time to go.

* * *

Emma stopped into the bakery for a minute after locking her car in the parking lot. She didn't know why - Anna had closed everything up safe and sound hours ago. She shuffled a couple of stray bowls around in the kitchen as she strained to check for the illuminated lights of the floral shop. They weren't fluorescent by any means, but she could see the glow. Cueing her nerves, she stepped back outside and triple checked the lock on the bakery's back door.

"Well, good evening, Swan."

Emma must have jumped a mile high when she heard the sultry accent of his voice cut through the dark distance from across the street.

"Dear god!"

"No need for formal monikers, love," he grinned from the short distance away, tugging open the passenger side door of his truck. "Killian will suffice just fine."

"You scared me, _idiot_," she glared, traversing the slick pavement to his side of the street. "Do you always skulk about the alleyways late at night, luring in unsuspecting women?"

"Oh, _please_. We made these consensual arrangements earlier so I'd hardly call it 'luring' at all. But," He taunted playfully, grabbing a mysterious bottle from the interior of the truck. "Some Pinot Noir as penance?"

Emma couldn't help the amused laugh that escaped her lips as she snatched the bottle and smirked at him wickedly. He shut the cab and narrowed his eyes with a matching grimace in reply.

"I am guessing you've got a corkscrew in the flower shop?"

"I've spent many nights here in a sea of paperwork and the more than occasional drink," he nodded with a slightly toothy grin. "So of course I do."

Yes, of _course_ he did.

* * *

"Killian, there is _no_ way you can pass off fishing equipment as a floral store business expense!"

Emma practically giggled the comment into her wine glass. They'd been at the ridiculously tedious task of sorting through financial damages for the better part of two hours. Emma found herself endlessly entertained by Killian's arrogant charm and stupid wit the deeper they delved into the wine bottle. Yeah, it had to be the alcohol that was making him less annoying.

"Oh, you underestimate me, Swan," he chuckled, swirling the contents of his own glass. "Where there's an expense report, there's a loophole and I'm a master of loopholes."

"You mean you're a crook?"

"Ha! I hadn't planned on using_ that_ word to define my way of conducting business," he smirked, raising a familiar eyebrow at her. "But let's call it piracy instead, yeah? It sound more dangerous and adventure inspired rather than financially dishonest."

"Aye, aye. Whatever you say, _Captain Hook_."

He sneered at her, flirtatiously kicking at her feet under the table as he pulled the pencil from behind his ear and scribbled something on the spreadsheet in front of him. He fell into focused concentration for a moment - a look that threatened to tempt a tipsy Emma. She felt a blush consume her cheeks and took the silent moment to move to her feet. She paid no mind to his steady eyes that were surely following her as she began to snoop.

"So," she began, running two fingers over the smooth leaves of a potted plant that was trickling down a shelf. "Poppies, huh?"

Killian grinned mischievously at her, slipping the pencil between his teeth for a moment as he leaned back in the chair. She raised questioning eyebrows at him, but he continued to watch her.

"What's the motivation behind your floral gesture today, Jones?"

Yes, this was better. Prompt and decomposing._ Now_ they were back down to business.

"Hmmm," he hummed, setting the pencil down on top of the spreadsheet. "Why so curious?"

"Because if I know anything about _you_," Emma retorted, sauntering back over to the opposite side of the table and landing with her palms on the surface. "It's that you always have a hidden agenda."

She tried to regain a bit of her lost composure. Perhaps she'd had more to drink than she realized. The forgotten cork on the tabletop seemed to support that thought.

"I like to think my motives are much less than ulterior, Swan," he flirted, folding his hands casually on the tabletop. "I'm always upfront with you."

"Then answer my question, Mr. Evasive."

"Well," he began with an entertained smirk. "The poppy is a symbol for beauty - for something almost magical. Many ancient civilizations believed it promoted sleep and a good night's rest."

"So it's like a flower for...nightmare prevention?"

"Perhaps," he laughed, standing and moving to a nearby workbench where a small group of poppies sat in water. "It always makes me think of a line I read once. Something about '_I used to build dreams of you_'-"

"Fitzgerald."

She wasn't asking if she was correct. Emma had read those words several times before in a leather bound completed works book her grandmother gave her.

"Yeah," Killian said, his mouth suddenly agape in surprise as his eyebrows furrowed with a strange sense of admiration. "You've read him?"

"Many times," she nodded, her eyes not leaving his. "He's a favorite I guess. People don't write that way anymore - all broken and honest."

"It's a shame, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Emma agreed, moving around to sit on top of the table. "So was your sole purpose behind the poppy to use that beautiful line of literature against me?"

He grinned wildly, shaking his head carefully as he selected a blossom from the bouquet. It was brilliantly red and put together in the most elegant of ways. He carried it toward her, examining the petals at first, but then moving his observation to her anticipatory green eyes.

"I suppose I selected this particular flower because I'd hoped you would _need_ it," he said, twirling the stem between his fingers. "I'd hoped you might need a sleep encouraging flower, especially if you happened to share in the same restless dreams I had last night."

"Hmmm - and what were these dreams about?"

Emma regretted the question the moment it left her mouth. He bit his lower lip pensively as he set the flower down softly. Without warning, he dropped his hands to the table's surface on either side of her, effectively trapping her. Emma could do nothing but look up, forcing her nervous gaze to lock firmly onto his fiery one.

"You."

His answer was expected, but it was stated with a sensual confidence that Emma just could not shake. The heat between them began to liven, a well known magnetism flickering. Rain began to pitter patter against the window, the only sound filling the room. Killian stay in the same position, waiting for her - asking her to be bold. He wanted her to tell or perhaps_ show_ what this was between them.

Emma felt the walls begin to close in on every side of her. The wine was making her flustered and lightheaded. She had to get out of there.

"Well, uh," she started, looking away and stumbling over her words. "I should probably go. It's, uh - it's getting late."

"Oh, uh - yeah," he replied, an expression of slight disappointment covering his face. "Hey, I have an umbrella. Let me grab it and I'll walk you out."

Emma took the short time during his absence to scold herself to sober up. She took a deep, focused breath and hopped off the table. It was starting to pour - she noticed the weather shift as he entered the room again.

"Alright," he said, popping the umbrella open with a half smile. "Ready?"

"Uh, yeah."

Emma moved purposefully toward him, reaching for the black, quite new umbrella. He pulled it back, signaling that he'd be carrying it because he would be walking back to the bakery_ with_ her. She sighed in defeat, shaking her head playfully at him as she drew her sweater closer. Always a ridiculous, infuriating gentleman.

They walked quickly, trying with success to avoid the small puddles gathering sporadically in their path. Emma was pretty positive she felt Killian's hand sit protectively on her lower back, but she was too anxious to look back to verify her speculation. The jaunt was short and they landed in front of the bakery's back door all too soon.

"Thanks, Killian," she said, shivering a bit. "You didn't have to walk all the way over here though."

"Ah, I did," he disagreed, pushing the umbrella into her hand. "Because I needed to leave this with you so you could make it to your car without melting."

"Hey! I wouldn't melt," she glared, slapping him on the chest. "I'm not the Wicked Witch of the West."

"There's been days when I'd beg to differ on that," he smirked thoughtfully. "But I guess you aren't so bad, Swan."

She laughed softly as she shoved him once more, examining his deep blue eyes a last time as he pulled the hood of his coat up over his already messy dark hair.

"Goodnight, Killian."

"Goodnight, Emma."

She quickly turned to unlock the door, startled at the use of her first name. He didn't say it often and in that instance, it made her shiver for a reason other than the chilly rainstorm. Slamming the door behind her, she heard the sound of his footsteps splashing through the pooling water as he left.

Emma moved casually to the window after leaving the umbrella on the metal countertop, wanting to see if she could make out his figure despite the darkness and the now torrential downpour. She came up unsuccessful, but she figured he was probably fine. He didn't need her to babysit him.

She shrugged, refusing to rethink anything that had happened that night as she began to rifle through her purse for her car keys. She really should just put them on the same ring. It was so stupid to keep-

A loud, hurried knock on the back door jerked her vision in that direction. She knew exactly who it was - but why?

Emma yanked the heavy door open to find a drenched yet smoldering Killian Jones. His clothes were completely saturated with rain and water trickled freely from his hair down his face. His hands were jammed in his pockets, but it was pretty obvious that it wasn't because it was cold. Emma could make out the tormented blue eyes of a man who looked torn.

"Killian! Oh my hell - you are _soaked_," Emma commented, stating the obvious but still in a concerned way. "What on earth are you doing out here?"

He didn't reply immediately. He looked unsure. Emma watched him run that wicked tongue over his lip, an action that left her subtly searching for her lost breath.

"Killian, what are you-"

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

Emma had no time to say anything further as he strode forward, grabbing the sides of her face roughly and pulling her to him. His lips were soft, but cold and wet from the rain. They began a needy assault on hers, his head tilting and his hand guiding hers to give him more access. Emma found the already strong desire she had regarding him begin to quickly spiral out of control as his hands moved up and down her body. She kissed him hard, tugging forcefully on his scalp in a way that made him moan and prompted him to pick her up.

He quickly moved inside, kicking the door closed behind him and he braced her against it as her legs wrapped around his waist. Killian ran his hands through her hair, pulling the strands to the side so he could devour her neckline. She felt several unexpected sounds vacate her throat as he ran his teeth along her jaw before moving his mouth back to a slower, passionate kiss. Anchored between him and the back of the door in such a sensual display of kisses and other pleasantries, a certain thought crossed Emma's jumbled mind.

Screw those _damn_ poppies and to hell with a restful night's sleep.


	6. Daffodil

**Okay, this one is kind of short but necessary :] big things to happen in the next one so I had to lead up to it. Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story! All of your wonderful comments are such meaningful motivation to continue. Enjoy and watch for a new update (or a few) this weekend. All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

Little drops of water hit the bakery floor sporadically, creating a tiny ocean at Killian's feet. It was only fitting seeing as how her current position had her floundering, drowning, and gasping for breath.

Emma's back was straight against the cold surface of the door by Killian's firm hip bones and his strong grip on the underside of her thighs kept her raised at the perfect angle. The denim of his jeans was beyond wet with the weather outside, but the drenched texture it created was enough to leave Emma soaked in a whole other way. His silky lips caressed her neck all the way down to her collarbone, nipping passionately as they moved along her skin. Emma bit her lower lip as she pushed an encouraging hand against his scalp. The little series of moans descending from her throat were uncontrolled and Killian's response to her vocalizations confirmed a very crucial fact.

He wanted her too.

Yet as his body shielded hers and his smooth fingers seemed to worship her, Emma couldn't help but wonder the manner in _which_ he wanted her - or exactly how much he truly did.

The stifling heat between them continued to build as Killian's mouth grew wild and his kisses became breathy and urgent. He pulled a hand up to contain a fistful of her long hair, tugging her lips even closer as she wrapped her needy arms around his neck. It didn't take long for their writhing lower bodies to begin a slow drag against one another, a motion that created even more tension and a delicious kind of friction. A whole new range of sounds and seductions filled the room.

As he began to thrust upward gently against her clothed body, Emma reluctantly quelled the growing pleasure building deep within her core for a moment. What the_ hell_ were they doing?

"Killian..."

The broken, pleasured use of his first name pulled a deep growl from his throat and caused his efforts to double as his hands gratefully moved across her back and down under her thighs. She wondered if he sensed the weak questioning tone in her poor excuse for a coherent voice.

"_Killian_."

He lowered her back down to the ground, both of his intuitive hands quickly cupping her face as he refused to break the kiss. He appeared to be breathing her in - consuming every bit of passion she would offer.

"Killian."

The third vocal occurrence from her finally grabbed his attention as he groaned and stole a few extra seconds to finish kissing her senseless. He ran his teeth in a slow, barely tangible bite over her lower lip before pulling back. When he finally did so, his expression was an almost humorous mixed bag of emotions. He blinked twice and glared into her lusty eyes, throwing in a sexy and equally unbelieving smirk.

"I don't think it would be unfair of me to ask that all questions or comments be held until the end, love."

Emma blushed, unsure of what to say now that she held his vision again. He didn't miss an opportunity to smooth out her uneasiness as he braced his hands again the door on either side of her, dropping his forehead down to meet hers. They shared a sequence of ragged breathing patterns as they both attempted to return to a real state of being.

"You okay, Swan?"

"Yeah, uh," Emma stuttered, still breathing heavily. "I, uh...I think so."

He pulled back, lustful eyes zeroing in on her in a way she couldn't quite decipher. Emma had a difficult time divesting herself from his burning gaze, but she knew she better do it before any awkwardness set in. She tried to slip out of his space, but he kept her cornered in his enclosed arms.

"Hey..._hey_ \- wait."

Emma didn't expect such an honest expression to land on his face. He looked elated but then panicked. She wondered what that was all about.

"Emma..."

"Yes?"

He paused a moment, worrying his lower lip with anxious teeth. He hadn't moved - his position was still quite possessive as his arms propped him up.

"It's okay."

His words were simple - a statement more than any reassurance or promise. So why did she believe him with every ounce of faith she had?

"Emma," he began, lowering his head to prompt her continued stare. "I...it's okay._ This_...this is okay."

She nearly laughed at his practically senseless attempt of validating their actions.

"Well, I can say that I do like this," she grinned. "Seeing you at a loss for coherent words is truly a refreshing change of pace."

"Mmmm...very funny," Killian smirked, drumming his fingers on the surface on each side of her. "But is my speechless demeanor the only part of this situation you find yourself fond of?"

Emma teetered on her heels as she met his hopeful gaze. This look was much more controlled - one that seemed direct yet adorably desperate. Why couldn't she just tell him the truth? Yes, she was _beyond_ fond of him - in ways she probably didn't even understand and surely would not admit to.

"Killian, I...I don't know."

"Hey...Emma - stop. It's okay," he stammered, a quick flicker of something in his eyes. "I have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, stopping before adding the last inquiry. "Do you trust me?"

Emma didn't trust many people - the number she could actually count on one hand. She wasn't the type to just hand her faith over to anyone. She had never operated that way and there wasn't really any reason for that to change-

"Yes."

He looked surprised in the most endearing way. It was a reaction she'd never observed, but the flutter it created in her stomach made her want to invoke it again.

"Okay then," he replied with a toothy grin. "Come - I'll walk you to your car."

"Wait-"

"Hey," he snapped playfully. "You're supposed to be trusting me."

"You like that idea, don't you?"

"Perhaps," he laughed, taking her slightly relaxed fingers in his. "Having you at my _mercy_ does have a...certain appeal."

_Oh, Killian Jones and his neverending innuendos_, Emma thought as she shook her head.

The rain was still freshly glistening on the pavement of the small parking lot. He held the multiple doors - the bakery's and her car's - wide open for her, assisting in navigating around a few puddles by keeping his protective hand at her back. She stood in the open driver's side door, peering into his crystal blue gaze. He looked so sweetly sincere. Given her past with this exasperating man, his expression should have been quite troubling for Emma - but for some unknown and totally confusing reason, it just wasn't.

"So what's up your sleeve, Jones?"

He grinned adorably, quickly moving his hands to her waist as he placed a singular yet seductive peck on her reddened lips.

"Tomorrow night. Go out with me."

"Go out with you?"

He gave her an earnest nod, keeping his eyes locked on hers as his hands caressed the cool flesh of her forearms. Emma bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know what he was playing at - this was a different Killian than the one who tormented her regularly from across the narrow street. It made her uncharacteristically nervous. She had never particularly liked it when this man held all the cards in the game that was their relationship.

"Ah," he winked. "To be divulged at a later time, love."

"Killian..."

"Swan, just..."

"Trust you?"

"Yes," he smiled softly. "Precisely."

Emma sighed heavily, giving into his suspicious game as he pulled her in for a final kiss - this one tender and full of direction. He cheated a bit, leaving an additional one on her forehead before pulling back while continuing to rub warmth into the chilled skin of her arms.

"Okay."

"That's better," he teased, reaching up to run a thumb across her cheek affectionately while cupping the back of her head. "I'll be in touch, darling."

Yeah, of _course_ he would be - and Emma had every reason to believe his contact would come in the form of some blossoming plant.

* * *

There was something to be said about beautiful penmanship. It had this sexy, secretive aspect to it - one that Emma had always found quite intriguing. She loved watching the process, seeing the dark ink assault a fresh sheet of paper.

If you'd asked her weeks ago, she would have chatted your ear off about how annoying and pretentious it could be. However, now as she slipped her finger across the flourished text Killian had created on a simple flower shop insert card, she couldn't help but smile. As predicted, the inscription had been located inside a small arrangement of flowers - ones that had been delivered quite early as they sat on the back step of the bakery, waiting for her arrival at work that morning.

He was still tormenting her, yes - but this was a whole new, wonderful level.

She plucked the card from in between the blossoms as she walked inside, flipping the lights on as she tried to figure out what the yellow flowers enveloped in a simple tall glass vase could mean. They looked familiar - she'd definitely seen them before, but she couldn't recall where. She fluttered her eyes across his message, hoping whatever he'd written would give her a place to start her research. The writing was slender and deep black against the vintage style paper square.

**Daffodil. The symbol of rebirth and good fortune. A chance for a new beginning of sorts.**

She couldn't believe he kept doing things like this - and she also couldn't fathom why she was steadily growing more and more okay with it. She felt around for her phone in the purse she had dropped to the desk next to the vase.

**Emma: It's a good thing you grow a quality product. Trespassing is illegal, Jones. If these flowers weren't so beautiful, I could surely turn the tables and point you in the direction of the law.**

She admired the individual petals - wide and the brightest hue of yellow she'd seen in quite some time. The subtle fragrance began to drift up to meet her senses as she twirled the glass, observing each flower from multiple angles.

**Killian: One day you shall understand that your tempting threats only encourage such behavior. But if you are saying thank you, I'd like to counter by telling you that you're most welcome.**

She rolled her eyes at his ability to put himself on a pedestal.

**Emma: I am actually trying to express gratitude - old habits die hard though.**

**Killian: Clearly, love. So I assume you made it through the brief botany lesson on the card?**

**Emma: Well it wasn't particularly lengthy so I managed it. It's pretty interesting that you are so knowledgeable about the meaning of each flower as well as which one to use to heighten my curiosity regarding you, Mr. Florist.**

**Killian: Did this curiosity lead you to examining the back of the card?**

She furrowed her eyebrows, setting the device gently on the wooden surface of her desk as she reached to pick up Killian's fact of the day card. Flipping it over, she found even more mystery in the form of an address.

**Emma: Are these the coordinates for where you plan to leave my dead body or where to find your buried treasure? Or both?**

**Killian: Hmmm, I don't have any homicidal plans for you in the near future, love - I quite enjoy your company so I figure I'll keep you breathing for the time being. Also, you know my business sense and if there's treasure abound, we both know I wouldn't be giving its location away...not even to you, darling.**

**Emma: So does this mystery address have a purpose?**

**Killian: Indeed, love. That's where you'll be meeting me tonight. 8 o'clock sharp.**

**Emma: Quite confident that I'll do as you request, aren't you?**

**Killian: Confident and hopeful are two very different things, Swan.**

Emma took a deep breath. She didn't know anything about these plans he'd swung into motion over the course of a late night finance meeting and a heated kissing session in the bakery. She didn't know if it was a good idea to concede to his wishes or if it would only land her in a bigger, even more perplexing mess. She couldn't calculate why - but she trusted him.

**Emma: I'll see you then, Killian.**

**Killian: I'll be waiting, love.**


	7. Orchid

**Okay here we go! Sorry this one took me so long! Between a terrible cold I caught and my hesitation that comes with writing the first smutty encounter between these two, the weekend got the best of me :] but here it is anyway! I hope it lives up to expectations haha. More to come as well! All rights/characters belong to OUAT (which returns in a week!)**

* * *

A secluded road and an escalating, dark beyond dark sky made Emma's skeptical yet sarcastic mind think only one thing - _this_ is how a horror movie begins. She mused with pursed lips at her dramatic and totally insane mind's antics.

Spending the night on some semblance of a date with Killian was probably safe enough - well, at least when it came to maintaining the simple state of living and breathing. Avoiding the danger of his heated touch and seductive glare was a whole other endeavor. Damn, maybe playing the distressed actress in a slasher film _would_ be an easier way to go. She shook her head fiercely at her whole train of thought. He wasn't even in the car and he was already getting to her.

She'd deduced where she was likely headed during the roughly twenty minute drive. This part of town wasn't particularly inhabited as it was just on the edge of the woods so it was pretty obvious that they weren't going out for dinner or drinks laced with blatant innuendos. It must be that he was inviting her over - she was going to the place Killian called home. She wondered why he'd asked her to go out with him when it was now clear that he had every intention of staying in with her. _Sneaky bastard,_ she thought.

Home was a strange thing. A foreign concept - probably to both of them. At least that's the way it looked to Emma. She'd have to get more details on his broken past later.

Her car turned right with a steady crunch of gravel under the tires as she veered up the long lane. She could see a whitewashed yet restored farmhouse at the end of the private road, glowing only due to the few lights on inside. Well, that _had_ to be it.

Parking seemed like an easy enough feat - the driveway and overall layout of the home's front yard was amazingly spacious. As she pulled up next to Killian's truck and shut off the ignition, she snuck a quick look at the passenger seat in the dull glow of the moonlight.

She didn't know why she'd brought cupcakes - vanilla ones at that. If her sensuality addled brain would have worked straight at all that day, she probably would have realized it was far too interesting of a gesture. However, her mind's functionality had been tainted by endless thoughts, ideas, and questions regarding Killian Jones throughout the duration of business hours. Conclusively, here she was - frosting carefully placed in a way that might help further conceal the heart hidden _under_ her sleeve.

Emma quickly scaled the barely creaky steps to the house's front door. She lifted her knuckle, feeling extremely awkward about the formal act of knocking when she heard a faint melody coming from an open window that was presumably around the back. As she followed it with an arched eyebrow and gentle feet, she soon learned that the noise was the soft and wonderfully scratchy piano music resonating from a record player.

Emma's eyes were having a difficult time finding him as she peered into the screen covered entrance - endless leaves, branches, and flowers crowded an enclosed porch turned partial greenhouse. It appeared to be his workspace, a fact Emma was particularly intrigued by. The area was lit up by dull lighting except for the portable work light that sat on the surface of the largest workbench. His skill and dedication were magnified in Emma's mind. Many people leave work at work, but looking at the delicate blossoms and gardening tools littering the space told her that Killian wasn't one of those people.

Despite the room's current lack of a florist, there was an element to her current view that made her swoon and gasp in unbelief. The entire space - the wood floor, the sporadic countertops, two separate work benches - had become storage for young, somewhat blooming orchids. Emma didn't know why she recognized that particular flower from somewhere, but the arch of the white and purple blossoms were not to be mistaken. They were glorious - some more colorful than others but each beautiful in a way that couldn't be disputed. She wondered briefly why he had so many.

"Would you prefer the term 'peeping _Swan_' rather than the more popular title for a stealthy little voyeur?"

Emma jumped with a loud gasp and her startled hands became helpless as the container of cupcakes tumbled to the ground, landing right next to her pride. She jerked around to meet the thickly accented voice chiding her actions.

He looked even more mysterious silhouetted against the darkness. His hair was sleek yet disheveled in a most enticing way. He wore a checkered blue and black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and dark jeans that seemed to accentuate his lower body in a manner that was all too unfair. His boots made quick movement as he rushed to her side, tugging off a pair of work gloves before reaching to retrieve the container Emma had dropped so unceremoniously. It was fortunate that he was able to assist her as in that moment, she found herself frozen and strangely without words.

"In my experience," Killian chuckled, carefully rolling the container to an upright position. "The dirt is safe for my line of work, but not for yours."

"Y-Yeah...I, uh...sorry."

"No apology necessary, love," he grinned, holding the cupcakes out to her. "I'm sure your grand gesture is salvageable."

She took the container and stood quickly as he moved back to the pile of firewood he'd been carrying before he'd rushed to rescue her from clumsiness. He threw the gloves back on, gathering each piece into his arms.

"I hope it's safe to say you haven't been playing with an ax in the dark," she commented, finally locating her voice. "That seems a bit arrogant - even for you."

"Ah, although I'd consider myself _quite_ adept at chopping wood," he replied, his blue eyes dancing with humor. "I cut this earlier this afternoon. Visiting the local emergency room isn't really part of my plan this evening, darling."

"So what_ is_ your plan, Jones?"

"All in due time, Swan," he said with a flirtatious raise of his eyebrows. "Now let's get inside - a warm fire awaits."

"Ah, what a gentleman."

"Yes," he nodded with a smile as he kicked the door open. "I'm _always_ a gentleman."

* * *

"Well, you'll have to forgive me for not having such nimble fingers," she said, biting her tongue gently in concentration. "Plus if I had known I was coming here to be put to work, I wouldn't be on my second glass of wine already."

She'd actually had three - one of them had been while she watched him make dinner. Taking in the vision of Killian Jones standing over a steaming stove while he made pasta _from scratch_ wasn't a sight that could be digested without alcohol.

"Oh, please, Swan," he laughed, his own hands focused on tying a string from an orchid's stem to the wooden support staff held up by the soil. "Perhaps I just wanted to give you a chance to participate in my work. Plus, I offered you wine and pleasant conversation - _quite_ hospitable if you ask me."

"I think I'd rather watch."

The suggestive words rolled off her tongue before she could process what she was saying. He paused to arch an eyebrow at her as he took a sip of the wine she'd selected from his vast collection, an action that made her breath stutter involuntarily.

"Well then," he teased with a wag of his eyebrows. "By all means, go right ahead."

Emma felt the tension in the room thicken considerably and she quickly wandered to where the slightly disfigured cupcakes sat. Perhaps involving herself with her own work would be a good distraction from watching the coordinated motions of Killian's fingers.

"So you never answered my question from before."

Emma peeled the lid off the container as she looked to him for clarification on what he was inquiring about.

"Why cupcakes?"

Oh. _That_ question.

"Well," she started, not expecting his repeated question. "I grew up in foster care. I spent small amounts of time in many different places so I tried not to get too attached, but the one home I truly do remember was with an single elderly woman who owned a bakery. She used to let me help her once in a while and I remember being amazed at how easily she would get swept up in her work. She was alone, but she loved what she did so it really didn't seem to matter. I guess it was...inspiring - in a way."

Emma was surprised with how quickly she'd just divulged such information to this man. There was definitely a lot of baggage that went along with a trip to her past and it was typically an unpleasant journey. Few people had actually ever made an honest inquiry like the one Killian just did. The genuine curiosity behind his question was perhaps why she'd been so open to sharing. The details of her life before Storybrooke weren't meant to be a secret - she didn't have anything to hide.

"I see," Killian's voice said softly, pulling her back to the conversation. "It's quite interesting the impact others have had on our current situations, isn't it?"

In the midst of her reflection, she hadn't noticed the way he had moved closer. He stood on the opposite side of the workbench where she was trying to save what was left of their dessert. His skilled hands were busy rolling string back onto a thin wooden spool and she tried desperately not to stare.

"Do you regret it?"

"At first, yes," he nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "It took any and all money I had saved as well as quite the lofty bank loan to start a business that wasn't even my desire or my idea. But when Milah left and I came here, it was all I knew - so I threw myself into my work and I actually came to truly love it. It's actually quite the serene endeavor - working with flowers, that is. Plants are far easier than people."

Emma smiled to herself at his statement. Those words could have been altered to say how she felt about sugar versus society. Her hands adjusted the layout of the cupcakes in the container, navigating their way around the smeared frosting.

"You are making a mess, love."

"It was already a mess," she laughed as frosting covered her fingers. "I'm just not helping matters much."

Her playful eyes lifted to meet his intrigued ones and without thinking, she lifted a finger to her lips and removed the rogue frosting with her tongue. The color of his eyes began to darken amazingly fast.

"Playing with fire there, Swan."

"Hardly. It's just that we aren't exactly in a kitchen," she replied matter-of-factly. "How else would you suggest I clean up?"

"Fair point," he said as he wandered around to where she was standing. "Allow me to help."

He reached down to grasp her wrist and lifted another of her fingers to his own mouth. His tongue ran along its length, taking with it the stray sugar left behind by the cupcake. Emma gasped at the contact - the action that was so closely mirroring the first night in the bakery. His gaze had grown intense and significantly more blue than it had been just moments ago. When he pulled back, her mouth was slightly agape as she patiently awaited his next move.

She didn't have to wait long. He trailed his own fingers down her forearms before pulling her firmly into his space and brushing his lips longingly across hers. It was a motion that ignited Emma's urge to kiss him and she didn't fight the desire for another second. Her lips slammed against his, moving rhythmically as her fingernails scratched his scalp softly. Killian appeared to lose any control he'd previously had as he ran his hands down her back to her thighs, squeezing hard and lifting her against him.

Emma was about to encircle his waist with her legs when he dropped her to the surface of the workbench and his mouth flew roughly to her neck, his teeth nibbling the skin all the way down to her collarbone. Emma began to fumble for the buttons on his shirt, her hands lacking control as his lips ravished her body. He leaned back a bit to give her better access, but pulled her head forward so he could continue kissing her while she began removing his clothes.

Once the shirt hung unbuttoned, he stepped back a moment to search her eyes. An involuntary smile met her lips and he offered one in return. No doubts. No second thoughts.

Maybe they both wanted this even more than they initially knew.

Emma shoved the shirt off his shoulders, dragging her hands across his muscular back in the process. Killian moved his hands to the top of her thighs, shoving them upward under the sundress she hadn't planned on wearing. She was now very grateful that she did. His fingers teased the skin from her legs up to her waist before he moved a hand out from under the fabric to drag down the zipper at the back.

The left strap of the dress fell off her shoulder, revealing the first sign of the black bra underneath. Emma kicked her flats off with a soft thud just before he lifted her again. She felt the dress slip effortlessly down her body to the wood floor as he sat her on the adjacent workspace, the smooth texture like ice on her fiery skin.

She shivered, a movement that made him grin against her bare skin before he dove back in to kiss her again. He groaned into her open mouth as her hands found their way to the front of his jeans. After successfully navigating the button and the zipper, Emma began to tug them down as far as she could. Killian laid her back against the table as he shoved them the rest of the way to the floor along with his gray boxer briefs.

Once fully unclothed, he leaned forward to kiss her once before pulling his lips down the entire length of her body. She began to writhe under him and by the time he reached the skin just above her waist, she eagerly assisted him in throwing her underwear to the ground.

He finally pulled her back up almost against his chest, his honest eyes meeting hers. He paused a moment, checking for permission as his hand moved to the clasp of her bra. Emma returned her swollen lips to his, moaning softly in approval as he rendered her naked.

Killian pulled her forward, grazing her bare lower body against his. She shuddered softly at the feel of the hard length brushing against her thigh. She let out a slightly strangled sound that she didn't even know she was capable of as he slid seamlessly into her. Emma bit down gently on his shoulder as he settled inside her, letting out a shaky gasp as he began to move.

She pulled back only to fuse their lips back together. As her tongue met his, his movements became more direct and firm. He gripped her lower back and she rolled her hips against his. The anticipated sensation of their bodies intertwined began to heighten the building pleasure as Killian's breath fell hot against her ear.

"Oh, _Emma_."

The broken, passionate sound of her name was enough to send her over the edge. Her breathy sequence of moans ignited his release as they rode out every last bit of pleasure between them. Once the motions ceased, Killian's lips found hers again. He kissed her sweetly, his hand at her cheek. She leaned into the kiss, her lips now very comfortably moving against his as rain began to fall against the window.

"Emma..."

"Yeah," she whispered with a satisfied breath. "That was..."

"Definitely not a one time thing."

"Oh really," she said, pulling back to question him with a raised eyebrow. "Says who?"

"Says me," he grinned, kissing her jaw. "Plus, you know - my house, my rules. It would appear as though you've been bested, love."

His eyes were playful, blue and bright. They looked brilliant in the dull lighting, surrounded by the complimenting hue of the orchids and the muted tones of the wood furniture.

"Mmmm, right," she taunted in reply. "But fortunately for you, I don't mind losing this one time. I hope I'm not making too large of an assumption by saying you have a bed somewhere in this house?"

"A few actually," he confirmed, dragging his teeth against her neck. "I'm guessing you've got good reason for making such assumptions?"

"I could tell you," she replied, leaning forward to bite at his bottom lip. "Or I could show you."

Where the hell had _that_ boldness come from? Emma bit her lip at her own aggressive statement.

"Mmmm," he mused, kissing her softly. "I believe this is a case where I'd most _certainly_ be considered a visual learner."

"I can't say I'm surprised," she grinned, her cold feet grazing his legs. "Lead the way?"

He smiled in return, running his hands from her thighs to her knees before lifting her and prompting her to draw her legs around his waist. He began a heated trail of kisses down her neck.

"As you wish, love.


	8. Zinnia

**I think everyone needs a little fluff now and again ;] plus it was just so much fun to write. Enjoy! All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

The rolling raindrops on the foggy window weren't much for company, but Emma didn't want to wake Killian so she'd take what she could get. She had been staring at the condensation gathering on the glass for quite some time. Insomnia had ripped her from quite a pleasant sleep an hour or so ago. Even in a state of satisfaction, sleep still didn't seem to want to take a seat on her side. The only upside to the whole thing was that she wasn't alone this time.

She had been so unbelievably exhausted and sated in a way she didn't know was possible after round three with Killian. He'd pulled her into his arms, his embrace strong around her as her head fell to his chest. As she listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat, she reminded herself of her most important rule - no staying the night.

Needless to say, she failed. _Dammit,_ she thought. She'd never been particularly great at following the rules.

The guideline regarding sleeping arrangements after encounters such as this one had been set in place for a reason. Mornings brought clarity. Daytime allowed light to filter in, igniting possible feelings. It was much easier to avoid the reality - if there _was_ any - of why and what it meant. Feelings were just not Emma's thing.

But the bed had just become so warm and comfortable - all satin sheets and naked Killian. She could _hardly_ be blamed for succumbing to tiredness in an environment like that.

She was about to roll over to face him when she felt his breathing change. She smirked to herself as his arm tightened around her waist.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to ask you that same question, love."

"A while," she said softly, turning over to meet his dreamy blue gaze. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Trouble sleeping?"

"I always have trouble sleeping - but you knew that, right?"

"Ah, the insomnia thing," he grinned, encircling his arms around her as he pulled her flush against him. "Well the way I see it, we have two options."

"Oh really?"

"Mmmm," he nodded, nuzzling her hair. "The first option is we can lay here for a while while we pretend like you're going to get some sleep, but when you don't, I'll have another opportunity to ravish you again."

"You're awfully sure of yourself there, Jones."

"Hmmm so it's working then?"

"_Maybe,_" Emma smiled, running her fingers through his dark hair. "I do like to know all of my options before making any crucial decision though."

"I'd expect no less," he laughed quietly, trailing his fingertips up and down her back. "Option two is we get up and you scavenge my pantry for whatever it is you need to make us some pancakes."

"You want me to make them? It's _your_ kitchen, Mr. Misogynist."

"Oh, Swan, I have absolutely nothing against women and I think the past few hours in this bed gave made it quite clear that any issue I have with you is quite _nonexistent_," Killian glared comically. "I just figure when we are debating who should be making something sweet, that task should most certainly default to you."

"Killian, it's-" she leaned over to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand. "-almost two in the morning."

"With the time difference, that's roughly breakfast time in Ireland," he smiled, a glimmer of childish hope in his taunting. "Any other arguments you'd like me to refute, darling?"

She narrowed her eyes playfully as he continued to sweep alternating fingers across her skin. Without warning, he leaned in to steal a slow, passion filled kiss. Emma supposed it was her own fault she'd been robbed seeing as how her guard was quite absent in the flirtatious moment.

She was going to have to do something about that.

"So if I'm cooking," she began, her head tilted back while he continued to explore her skin with his lips. "What will you be doing?"

"Mmmm," he smiled against her neck, nipping softly. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

"I'm hoping you're planning on going back to bed after this? I don't know that I'm willing to open the bakery quite this early."

"Of course, love," he assured, kissing her on the cheek as he pulled her close. "Where else would I ravish you?"

She could think of a _few_ places...but for now, that thought would be stowed away.

* * *

Emma had thieved him right back, swiping a long black t-shirt from a hanger in his closet and watching his jaw go slack as she slipped it on. It hung down to about mid thigh and left very little to the imagination - although there was no longer much imagining to do.

"I guess I'll be raiding your cupboards," Emma warned, tossing him a seductive glance over her shoulder as she swayed her hips upon exiting. "Better hop to it on your end of this master plan."

"Oh don't you worry, Swan," Killian replied, biting his lower lip as he watched her exit. "I'm right behind you."

Emma had found the light switches in the corner of the room, flipping them on to illuminate the dark wood floors and granite surfaces. He'd obviously polished the charm of this older home by modernizing it - new appliances, refinished cabinetry, and flawless flooring. She swung open the pantry door and began sifting through the randomly assorted items. She was surprised at the quantity, but even more so at the quality. She didn't know many men who kept pure Madagascar vanilla on hand. He clearly was something of a decent cook. _Manipulative and deceitful,_ she laughed to herself.

She'd only begun to pull things from their various locations - flour, butter, baking powder - when she heard the raspy sound of Motown begin to grow in volume. It appeared as if Killian had a built in, top notch sound system built in somewhere in the house. She wondered if this music was what typically sounded from the speakers. The thought nearly made her laugh out loud.

_Oh darling, I'm so lonely without you._

Yeah, Emma knew the song. But _really_? He couldn't be serious.

_Can't sleep at night, always thinking about you._

She dropped her supplies onto the countertop and leaned forward, peering around the corner to see what he was up to. Killian was bent down, having just set the needle on the record. He looked back and wagged his eyebrows at Emma. Of course he hadn't bothered with a shirt - only baggy sweatpants that hung loosely at his waist and drifted down to his bare feet. She rolled her eyes and set back to work.

_But if I had the chance to start all over,_

Emma was taking eggs from a full carton when he rounded his way into the kitchen. His gentle hands found a quick way to her waist as he moved behind her to grab a bowl from a high shelf. She all but melted into his touch.

_I would be wishing today on a four leaf clover,_

His chest radiated heat as his warm skin brushed against her back. He set the bowl next to her, kissing her on the cheek with a teasing wink. Emma grinned and began mixing the ingredients as he moved to make them some hot chocolate, commenting that coffee probably wouldn't promote rest. She began to heat up the griddle she found nearby, watching him shake his hips adorably out of the corner of her eye. _What a fool,_ Emma thought with a laugh.

_And leaving would be the last thing on my mind..._

He moved closer at her reaction, trapping her against the countertop with an arm on each side as he took the bowl and the song carried on. Killian began to pour the mixture into equal sized circles on the hot surface, trailing kisses across her shoulders as he did so.

"Hey, that's _my_ job."

"You seemed far too distracted for such an important task, love."

He dabbed a smudge of batter onto her nose, prompting an open mouth and a loud gasp from Emma.

"Seriously?"

"Oh, absolutely," he smirked, leaning forward to kiss her. "I'm _always_ quite serious."

Emma flipped around, sliding away from the hot griddle but staying in his enclosed arms. She challenged his lively eyes with her own heated, green gaze. He took the moment as an invitation and lunged forward to kiss her while simultaneously lifting her to the countertop, carefully avoiding a run-in with the heated surface. He cupped the sides of her face and ran his fingers through her smooth bed head, his mouth moving softly with hers. Emma sighed into the kiss, feeling him smile against her lips.

"Killian," she breathed, pulling away only to lean her forehead on his. "What are we doing?"

"Hmmm," he said, bracing his arms on the surface as he gave her a final peck. "Well right now, I'm trying awfully hard to gain any sense of self control so you can finish cooking before we literally burn the house down."

"Seems like a decent idea," Emma shrugged with a smile, her hands scratching the back of his head gently. "So how about after I'm done slaving away in here?"

"Well then we're going to eat," he continued, punctuating his speech with kisses. "So we can go back to bed."

"So far, so good," she agreed. "And then?"

"And then I have every intention of making you remember just how comfortable my bed _truly_ is."

Emma loved his playful banter and found herself anxious to return it, but in the split second after his provocative response, his eyes turned amazingly honest. Where had _this_ man been? Was this the guy that she used to despise? It didn't seem possible.

"And after that?"

Emma hoped that her own expression reflected how broad her statement really was. She didn't even know what she thought - what she wanted. It probably wasn't fair for her to be asking.

"Well," he said, peeking up at her with a half smile. "I don't know."

* * *

Emma was almost annoyed with the way she couldn't stop smiling. She'd slept late, tangled up with Killian until about ten that morning. He'd brewed them coffee and had also made every attempt to keep her in bed to no avail. It wasn't like he hadn't fulfilled his promise about what would happen once they fell back into bed. He had - _twice_. Leaving had been all too difficult, but she tried to keep him from knowing that. His grin told her he wasn't fooled, but he allowed her to go after a final searing kiss.

Yes, Emma couldn't even begin to _think_ of not smiling.

She'd smirked all the way through her inventory check, crossing things off her list as she mulled over Killian's toned physique. She smiled shyly as she kneaded fondant and remembered the way he'd moved against her, hard and deliberate. She'd nearly spilled an entire bag of flour while shifting things in the supply room as she was so distracted with the memory of his silly little musical number during their late night - or very, _very_ early morning - pancake break.

Between breakfast and a few bundles of blossoms, Emma Swan found herself strangely smitten.

"Hey Emma?"

A knock on her office door broke her out of her unusual reminiscing. She arched an eyebrow at the noise, capping the pen she'd been chewing on.

"Yeah? Come in."

"Oh, uh...these just came for you, Emma."

Anna entered, carrying a oversized bouquet of colorful flowers - reds, pinks, oranges, yellows, and even a few white blossoms. Emma bit her lip hard to stop the grin that threatened to take over her entire face.

"Just, uh...just set them here. Thanks, Anna."

Before her employee even left the room, Emma tugged the card from inside of the enormous bundle of flowers. It was quite ostentatious. _I mean seriously, Killian_, she thought with a shake of her head. The card said only one word.

Zinnia.

She allowed her fingers to fly over her keyboard at lightning speed, typing the term into her Internet browser. She clicked through a couple of results, but ultimately smiled when she found it - the meaning behind his gesture. She grabbed her phone and scrolled to his name.

**Emma: I can't stop thinking about you either, Killian.**

* * *

I heard this song on my iTunes radio the other day and I just couldn't help but visualize the pancake scene to this tune haha :] it's "Turn Back the Hands of Time" by Tyrone Davis - just in case you didn't know!


	9. Rose

**Well, here it is. A bit of plot and a bit of smut. I regret nothing (although perhaps I should) haha. All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

It had taken Emma about nine hours to really start to question her own behavior - the fear and typical skepticism rearing their ugly little heads around eight o'clock that night. She was sitting at her kitchen table, sorting through a few cake decor magazines when she felt that familiar sense of doubt begin to cloud her mind.

She'd slept with him. She had _slept_ with Killian Jones, her arch nemesis from across the street - although perhaps now he was a _former_ arch nemesis. What was perhaps even worse was the fact that she couldn't find it in herself to regret any second of it. Emma rubbed her eyes in exasperation, trailing her hands over her hair and down the back of her head before blinking hard. How had _this_ happened?

Emma wasn't one for serious relationships - or any relationships really for that matter. Sure, there had been a few flames from the past, but nothing worth lingering on. She wasn't damaged. She wasn't _broken_. She just didn't trust people. Why should Killian be any different?

A firm knocking pattern on her front door caused her to jump and shift slightly as she gazed toward the deadbolt. She wasn't sure why, but she knew it could only be one person.

She could ignore it - maybe he'd give up and leave her alone to wallow in self destruction. A chime from her phone alerted her that he may have already been onto her game. She scrambled to try and shield the sound before looking at the screen.

**Killian: Your car is in the driveway, love...**

_Dammit,_ she thought as she bit her lip. She hated the way he read her like an open book, even from behind a closed door. Figuring she didn't really have a way around it, Emma decided she better just face the music - as long as this melody didn't include the accompanying charm of Killian's unexpected dance moves.

"Swan."

His voice sounded relieved, but Emma couldn't help but notice the way it didn't exactly match the look in his eyes. They were the lightest of blues - concerned and almost sad even. His smile looked a little forced and his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He rocked back and forth on his heels, reaching up to scratch behind his ear. Now_ that_ was an adorable nervous tick if she'd ever seen one. Doing her best to not melt against the door frame at the sight of such a puzzling man, Emma folded her arms with a soft smile as she tilted back on her own feet.

"Hey."

"Hi," he replied with an anxious yet curt nod. "Are you, uh...busy? I mean...would you...can we talk? Just for a minute?"

If hope had a face - a desperately endearing one - it was staring at her via Killian Jones. Emma pursed her lips and tapped the door with her fingertips.

"Sure," she smiled nervously. "Yeah, come in."

He walked past her, much more on edge than she'd seen him before. Shutting the door softly, Emma turned to face the man who she felt...something for. She just didn't know what. She began gently wringing her hands, searching for the words that would make some - well,_ any_ sense.

"I'm not very good at this, Emma."

The admission tumbled from his mouth and into the tense space between them. Emma arched a curious eyebrow at him.

"At...this?"

"Yes. At this - this whole thing we're doing...or _not_ doing," he shifted on his antsy feet, smoothing the hair across the back of his head with a shaky palm. "I am really terrible at this sort of thing."

Suddenly, she saw it. The details were everywhere - the stutter in his voice, the fragility of his gaze, his hesitation in the doorway. Killian Jones was just as bad at feelings as she was.

_Talk about a revelation,_ she thought as she took a seat on the couch.

"Say something?"

She'd been so intrigued by his vulnerability that she had grown oblivious to her own silence. In an honest effort to assuage his nerves, she patted the cushion next to her. He walked as if a trail of glass lay under his feet and slowly sat down, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I wasn't sure if I'd ever see the day you'd admit you were bad at _anything_," Emma tried teasingly, shifting to face him and pulling her feet up onto the couch. "Humility suits you."

"We both know I'm a faithful subscriber to your cunning wit, love," he replied with a soft laugh, reaching to drag her feet to his lap. "But I did come here with the intention of being straightforward when it comes to this particular shortcoming."

"Well...are you done?"

"No," he said, using the dexterity of his fingers to rub comfort into the sole of her feet. "Not quite..."

"Well, in that case," Emma sighed, tilting her head toward the fireplace. "Would you like to warm up and talk feelings?"

Her question was all in good fun, but it made him gulp quite visibly. The sight promoted Emma to reach for his hand, a gesture that seemed to calm him in an unexpected way. _Whoa_. When did _she_ become an emotional rock?

"Okay," he finally said, pulling her knuckles to his lips. "Let's talk."

* * *

"For the record," she offered, handing him a wine glass. "I'm glad you're here."

The dull darkness had become vaguely illuminated by the flames in the fireplace. It was bright enough for Emma to see the face of flattery Killian was currently adorning. She began to poor him a glass of her guilty pleasure pink wine, wondering if she could slip its poor quality past him.

"Ugh! God, Swan," he cringed, wiping his mouth. "What the _hell_ is that?! That's the most infernal thing I've ever had to drink!"

"Oh calm down, sir. Forgive me for thinking the florist in you might like Rosé," she taunted, taking his glass to the kitchen and returning with a beer. "Try this then. Now it's not Guinness so try to keep your Irish self at bay and just deal with it."

He quickly took her glass and the bottle she was offering. After setting both on the coffee table, he took on an almost predatory expression as he crawled on top of her, moving his arms as if prowling. Killian wandered slowly up her body, caging her with his arms in a most typical fashion. Their eyes locked and he bent down to kiss her deeply and with more passion than she had been expecting. When he pulled back, they were equally gasping for breath.

"Why are we so horrible at this?"

"Well, the fact that I've been dying to kiss you since watching you drive away this morning is probably a contributing factor," he grinned, kissing the end of her nose. "But I think we can simplify this."

"Oh, do you? I'd love to hear your grand plan, Jones."

"Alright," he said, sitting back up and reaching to tangle her fingers with his. "Simple, right? I am awful at relationships. I dated a lot right after the divorce and it never panned out because honestly I am really, _really_ bad at feelings - or at communicating them I guess."

_Wow_. The suave _and_ never speechless Killian Jones bad at expressing and explaining his emotions? Emma didn't expect this - his confession or the fact that they had so much in common when it came to relationship experience.

"But, Emma...I-I like you," he admitted, toying at his lip with nervous teeth. "I like...this. Being around you is different. It makes me think...well, it makes me want to try."

Was he attempting to make them exclusive? Emma narrowed her eyes a bit, trying to read between the oh so blurry lines.

"So what are you saying, Killian?"

"That I want to try this...this whole dating thing," he explained, clearly confused in how to be so emotionally available. "I want to try this with_ you_...assuming you want that perhaps as well?"

Emma tried to fight her initial reaction, but it was a fool's errand. Here he was - being honest and open in a way that he knew could leave him drowning in rejection. He'd come here in a rattled frame of mind, doubtful and fighting the similar urge to flee that Emma regularly battled with. But he was _still_ here.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay," Emma repeated, stroking his fingers. "Although you may have to redefine your end game seeing as how we've kind of...skipped a few steps."

"Ah,_ that_," he almost blushed. "Minor yet _wonderful_ details. I guess nobody's perfect?"

"Yeah, I guess not," she laughed. "So...how are we going to do this?"

"Well," he began thoughtfully, caressing her hand with both of his. "Let me take you out - like on an actual date. Like to dinner or...something."

It was almost funny to see him stumble over his verbiage. What were they - teenagers?

"The 'or something' sounds quite confident," she teased. "When were you thinking?"

"Tomorrow night? I could come pick you up and everything - have the opportunity to be a true gentleman."

His eyes were alight with possibility and seemed to be cheerfully scheming as he awaited her reply. It had been ages since Emma had been out on an actual planned, thoughtful date with anyone. The idea made her the strangest bit curious.

"Alright," she nodded cautiously. "Then it's a date."

He smiled with the purest element of happy success. Killian fell forward again, fusing his lips to hers in appreciation and the utmost anticipation. The look that quickly covered his face told her he'd discovered another idea - he was so insanely expressive. She couldn't complain.

"Wait...be right back."

He hopped up and ran out the front door, leaving Emma laying alone on the couch in a completely confused state. She could hear his movement outside and she figured he must be retrieving something from his truck. She stood, wandering to the window with the blanket from the back of the couch around her shoulders. He reappeared with a goofy grin and a single red rose.

"I figured I better ask properly," he said with a smirk. "Chivalry and all that. Can I pick you up at seven?"

"I'm starting to think you just cart flowers with you wherever you go so you can be prepared for moments like this."

"Though I'd consider myself an opportunist," he replied, snaking his arms around her waist. "I brought that specifically for you - though I had planned to just leave it for you as I figured you might find a way to avoid answering the door. If you're going to avoid me, you're going to have to get better at it."

"Foiled again I guess," she shrugged, kissing his cheek. "Seven sounds perfect."

"Good. Seven it is."

He kissed her softly once more and stepped back a bit as a weird sense of panic overtook her. She didn't want him to go.

"Killian, uh, I..."

He paused the process of pulling on his jacket, raising his eyebrows at her. Emma's mouth struggled to form a request for him to stay, but he watched her and the knowing smile that landed on his lips made it pretty clear that he knew what she wanted. He set the jacket down and flung himself back onto the couch, laying horizontally and rubbing the surface right next to him.

"I must admit that I'm quite curious about the Netflix playlist of Emma Swan."

"Well then," she grinned, sliding in next to him and tossing him the remote. "Wonder no more."

* * *

"_Killian._"

Emma sat half undressed on top of her dresser, the strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder as her feet dangled almost to the ground. Killian had his body pressed firmly against hers as his manic hands moved across every inch of her skin before finally ridding her of the shirt.

Emma had removed Killian's in the living room as their chosen movie was ending and it was somewhere on the hallway floor. They both had difficulty managing their wandering hands throughout the duration of the film, but by the time the credits began to roll, they were in fierce competition of removing each other's clothes while navigating their hurried path to Emma's bedroom.

"These need to go, love."

He tossed her underwear to the ground, leaving a trail of kisses down her chest as he did so. Emma tugged on the button of his jeans, barely managing to yank the zipper down before he dropped to his knees. He pulled her to sit on the end of the piece of furniture, the cool wood surface tingling under her thighs. His eyes were hooded and hazy blue when he finally leaned in to drag his tongue through the wetness between her legs.

"Oh,_ god_."

He smirked up at her, but she found herself far too wrapped up in the sensation his tongue was providing to care. His mouth moved rhythmically, licking and lapping in a calculated endeavor. The moans escaping her lips began to increase in volume.

"Mmmm, _Killian_. Right there."

"God, you are so beautiful, Emma," he panted, quickening the speed of his tongue. "You are _so_ wet, love. So sweet."

"_Oh_, yes. _Killian_. Oh, don't stop."

He groaned against her, doubling his efforts as he moved his thumb to assist his tongue, pressing down into a steady, slow pattern. The circular motion against the sensitive area began to heighten everything and Emma drove her hands into his hair.

"Oh _god_, Killian. So good. That feels _so_ good."

"Come for me, Emma."

She heeded his words almost instantly, pulsing hard against his mouth as he pushed his tongue deep inside her. Emma nearly screamed at the release of pleasure running through her and she threw her head back with a loud moan. She continued to guide his head with her weak hands, his tongue gently moving across her skin. Eventually, he moved back up to kiss her and Emma found herself sated beyond belief. He grinned against her lips once he finished tangling his tongue with hers.

"I have to warn you that I am definitely going to be doing that again," he said softly, biting at her bottom lip. "Quite mesmerizing to watch, darling."

"Cocky _bastard_," she chided, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kissed her jaw. "But I think it's only fair that you lose what's left of your clothes, Jones."

"Big plans?"

"Absolutely," Emma replied, finally pushing his jeans to the floor. "Now it's my turn."


	10. Camellia

**Here we go :] thank you all so, so much for your wonderful comments. You are all amazing! All rights/characters belong to OUAT. Enjoy, friends!  
**

* * *

"Oh, like hell, Swan," Killian teased, pulling her back into his arms. "That is definitely _not_ what happened at all."

Morning had found them wrapped up in the sheets and each other as the light filtered in through the half open curtains. Killian's hands were smooth as they worked their way over her shoulders and back. Being naked with this man was quickly becoming a favored past time.

"Yes it is! Trust me - it was the first time you pissed me off so I remember it _quite_ vividly."

* * *

_It had been a couple of days before Valentine's Day - roughly three years ago. The bakery was slammed and had been for nearly a week. Emma had receipts and flour coming out her ears plus a huge lack of sleep weighing heavy on her mind._

_It hadn't kept her from noticing the oh so subtle opening of the mysterious new store across the street._

_What really added to the stress was the less than romantic weather. It had been a constant drizzle for days with the occasional downpour making an appearance. Two things were for sure - baking ingredients plus rain could mean disaster and the now obvious floral shop across the road could potentially hurt business. There was a lack of quality flower suppliers in Storybrooke and much of the surrounding area, but having this new option available so close to a holiday dedicated to all things sweet and beautiful could really cut sales. Emma tried to brush off the curiosity about who this new neighbor could be. Maybe she'd look into it later, but for now, she had a business to run._

_Her half assed optimism last until February 12th at approximately one in the afternoon - the regularly scheduled time for white cane sugar delivery. Yes, the same damn time it had always been dropped off since the first order was ever placed._

_Emma rolled into the parking lot post lunch with Mary Margaret to a rather unusual sight - although it was a bit difficult to see through the tiny drops of rain sporadically rolling down the windshield. There were two delivery trucks with grappling drivers, an argument clearly happening over who was in the way. Emma knew only that it sure as hell wasn't the guy who had all twenty bags of the sugar she'd ordered on a rolling cart, sitting without cover on the sidewalk. That was the same place the same delivery driver dropped off her same order at the same time every single month._

_"What the hell?"_

_She said the words to the thin air in her car before jamming the vehicle into park and hopping out to find out what the strange commotion was about. The two guys were engaged in a wordy argument accompanied by waving clipboards and a terrible lack of attention regarding the darkening of the sky._

_"Hey - both of you," she cut in, interrupting the battle of raised voices. "What's the problem here?"_

_"The problem is this guy and his truck that are blocking the back entry to the bakery. How the hell am I supposed to get the sugar inside?!"_

_"Okay, uh, just...calm down," Emma began, flinching at the thunder sounding overhead. "Wait - why are you even here? Nobody else uses this unloading zone."_

_"Well now someone does," the unknown driver snapped back, flashing a delivery form at her. "Now if you'll excuse me - I've got about ten flats of flowers to get inside and I'd prefer to do it before this storm hits."_

_He stormed back toward his truck, working with another guy to lower the first crate to the ground before heading into the flower store. Emma looked from the at risk sugar to the almost black clouds overhead. She had to do something before they ended up with a sweet melted mess all over the sidewalk._

_"Okay, just...start taking it in through the front," Emma directed, quite unsure on the best way to handle the dilemma. "I will go find out what's going on. But please...just - hurry."_

_The driver nodded and Emma dashed across the street, feeling the increasing drops of rain land on her head. Water would ruin everything - and there was no way to get another order filled before Valentine's Day. This was not happening._

* * *

"Swan, it wasn't my fault it rained."

"But it _was_ your fault that my delivery guy had no way into the bakery, leaving us to unload bulk sugar in a torrential _rainstorm_ which led to losing about half of it, sir," Emma retorted, pinching at his ribs. "Plus you didn't a great job if being ironically 'out to lunch' when I came over to sort things out."

"You sure have a habit of thinking I'm out to get you," he remarked with a grin. "But in fact, I quite fancied you even then...well, when you weren't yelling at me."

"Hmmm," she began thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow at him. "And now?"

"I think I've made myself_ quite_ clear, love," Killian replied, running his tongue across his teeth with a seductive smirk. "But seeing as how I've yet to rectify this sugar mishap situation, will you allow me to make it up to you? Tonight?"

"Hmmm, I don't know," Emma teased, feigning disinterest as she rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm a little busy. I have a pretty hot date tonight..."

"That you do," he laughed, kissing her forehead as he nuzzled up against her. "I'll bet that lucky guy is surely looking forward to it."

"I hope so."

Killian's expression was one of genuine elation. Emma found such amusement in his excited nature about them going out. It made her wonder what he had planned.

"Okay, love," he said, sighing dramatically. "I'm already kicking myself for saying this, but we both probably ought to get back to the business world."

"I suppose so. It doesn't mean I have to _like_ it."

"Likewise, darling," he chuckled as Emma snuggled up under his chin. "But the sooner we get work out of the way, the sooner we can get back..._here_."

_Ah yes - down to business_, Emma thought with an internal laugh.

"I do need to shower," she mentioned, trying for a few more moments with him. "But that shouldn't take long...well, _unless_..."

"Is that an offer?"

"Would you like it to be?"

"Hmmm," Killian grinned, wiggling against her. "Perhaps you better lead the way, love."

* * *

Emma found herself unusually nervous for much of the day though she knew it was silly. It was Killian - this..._guy_. She wasn't quite sure how to describe or classify him now. She only knew that in the span of roughly a few weeks, he'd figured out a way to make her melt rather than just to make her fume.

Work has been such a dragging event, one filled with distraction and the inability to focus. She'd sat through a wedding consultation only to be thankful later that Anna had been within earshot to send her a noted summary of what had been discussed. _Dammit_, Emma realized. Her sweet little employee was _definitely_ sensing that something was going on.

"Emma?"

Oh, great. _Here we go_, Emma thought as her breath hitched.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you...spending time with Killian?"

Dammit.

"Uh...why do you ask?"

"Well," Anna began, stacking cupcake boxes on a nearby shelf. "You guys just seem to hate each other less...or maybe not hate, but dislike - I don't know. It just seems different."

"Oh," Emma acknowledged, trying to busy her hands with shuffling documents near the register. "I wouldn't say I hate him - or that I...ever have."

"Ha! Seriously? Emma, you are_ livid_ every time you return from talking to him and if you're not dealing with him, you're avoiding him."

She knew Anna was right. Prior to the gala, Emma had rarely interacted with Killian without accusing, yelling, or threatening murder. So what had happened to cause this complete shift in their relationship?

"I don't know," Emma shrugged, clicking a pen while scanning random numbers on a receipt. "Maybe people...change."

_Or maybe they see things they didn't before and opt to give someone a chance_, she realized. Maybe that was what she was doing.

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror, Emma couldn't help but panic over her seventh choice of clothes. Killian had refused giving her any idea about where they were headed, telling her only to dress warm and to trust him - again. This was getting ridiculous.

She had been pulling on her black jacket when she heard a subtle knock on the wood of the front door. Biting her lip, she took a deep, shaky breath. She walked cautiously to the door, laying a palm flat against it and closing her eyes momentarily before pulling it open.

He looked handsome in a nearly devastating way. His hair was tousled and pushed back enough to highlight the whimsical blue of his eyes. He wore a collared blue sweater with a white henley underneath, the top two buttons undone. His jeans were faded but well fitted - of course - and his hands were jammed comically in the pockets. His feet were stuck inside of a pair of tan, canvas boat shoes. That was sure an interesting adjustment to his look - interesting but sure as hell not disappointing.

Then there were the flowers. They were ruffled and pale pink, tied together with a thick burlap ribbon. She wasn't fazed by his floral gestures anymore - just curious about his purpose behind his selections.

"Swan," he smiled wildy, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "You look beautiful, love."

Emma had dressed simply - hardly dolled up enough to be deemed beautiful. She'd picked copper colored jeans and a cream sweater, layered with a black jacket and her favorite gray scarf. Her boots were her favorite ones - a well worn, black pair that zipped up to the knee.

"You're not so bad yourself, Jones," she smiled, nodding softly. "Nice shoes."

"Ah, those," he grinned, rocking backward on his heels. "They are relevant - trust me."

There were those words again. They were almost starting to stick.

"Ready, Swan?"

"I guess as ready as I'll ever be."

"Good," he smiled, holding a hand out to her. "Then we should go...before I make alternate plans for that scarf of yours."

"Now that sounds a bit tempting," she replied, arching an eyebrow at him as she intertwined their fingers. "I may hold you to that later."

"You're on," he retorted, elbowing her teasingly. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

They'd been bantering over dinner for about an hour, a few glasses of wine and an immense amount of flirting livening up the night quite a bit. Emma found herself running her foot up and down his leg slowly, a movement that made him bite his bottom lip and raise his eyebrows at her.

"Are you trying to make a _point_ there, love?"

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about, Jones," she answered, swirling the wine in her glass as she glared right back at him. "Just trying to enjoy my glass of wine."

He reached across to stroke her fingers, studying the way their hands fit together. Emma was intrigued as she observed the way he took such interest in the touch of her skin to his. She caught the half smile overwhelming his lips and couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd had that sort of contact with someone. The look of longing she noticed told her that it wasn't something he was taking lightly. But who was she kidding - she wasn't either.

"So you'll have to forgive me, love," he began, clearing his throat as he kept his hand attached to hers. "I don't take you as a fan of pink, but given the time of year, it's all the rage in the flower shop."

She was confused at first, but his goofy grin told her that is was about the flowers. It was always about the flowers. She liked that for some reason.

"You're quite perceptive, aren't you, sir?"

"I'd like to think so."

"So are you going to educate me or not?"

"If you insist," he rolled his eyes flirtatiously. "Camellias - just got them in a day or so ago. They're native to Asia, but somewhat widely attainable now. Gotta love the modernized world of floral transport."

"Interesting," Emma said, tilting her head. "Are you about to get to the good part?"

"Eager, aren't we?"

"Killian..."

"So the camellia flower is a symbol for desire and longing - for one who has truly taken your breath away," he enlightened, the lilt in his voice growing heavy. "Spellbinding, lovely...a true _vision_."

His gaze was seductive but true - almost as if he was describing her rather than the plant. He had a way of doing that. _Insufferable botanist with his extreme knowledge,_ she thought with a small smile.

"It seemed fitting," he shrugged. "Plus, I will always jump at a chance to elaborate on your botanical understanding."

Emma continued to study him as he paid the check, his eyes expressive as he scribbled that ever flourishing signature of his on the appropriate receipt. She didn't like the idea of dinner ending. She didn't _want_ to go home - not unless he'd be joining her of course.

"Ready for step two, Swan?"

"Wait...there's more?"

"Absolutely," he laughed, standing and pulling her to his side as he kissed her cheek. "Did you bring your sea legs?"

Now what the hell did that mean?


	11. Gladiolus

**I'm so floored by all the support for this story. Thank you so much for the wonderful comments! I had to elaborate a bit on the relationship between these two, but for those who are enjoying the m-rated side of things, the smut shall return promptly ;] don't worry! As usual, all rights/characters belong to OUAT...which returns TOMORROW :] yay!**

* * *

The slight breeze floating through the air at the docks was enough to turn Emma's hair into a tangled mess while also blowing her skepticism right back into the picture. Water. Emma was _not_ a fan of water.

Killian's spirit was so light and carefree as he all but tugged her across the boardwalk to where a smaller sailboat was stationed away from the others. It barely bobbed on the subtle waves and caused Emma's heart to race. Her eyes grew wide when Killian squeezed her hand and then hopped onto the deck, a loud thump sounding against the surface via his all too adorable shoes. He looked at her sweetly, offering her an outstretched hand. She hesitated with a shaky deep breath, something his perception picked up on quickly.

"Hey," Killian said, tilting his head curiously. "You okay there, Swan?"

"Ummm maybe," she replied, peeking into the boat but keeping her feet planted. "I don't know."

"Love," he began, narrowing his eyes with an inquiring smirk. "Do you dislike the water?"

Of course he'd figure her out all too quickly. She felt a blush cover her cheeks as she shrugged. He smiled, trying not to chuckle as he used that extended hand to scratch behind his ear.

"Well, well...I never thought I'd see the day where you'd admit a fear of something, love. I was always under the impression that Emma Swan is unrealistically brave."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," she glared sarcastically. "I'm _not_ afraid. I just don't like the idea of being on a boat in the middle of the water in the dead of night. One might say I like living far too much for that."

"Well it's a good thing we aren't going out on the water then," he laughed. "I was merely hoping to enjoy a drink in a location where we might have some_ privacy_. Very few people would ever think to find me here."

"So your plan was really just to come down here to...hang out?"

"I guess if that's what you prefer to call it," he mused. "I actually hoping I might get you to merely consider the sea...and perhaps ponder giving it a shot."

"So you_ knew_?"

"You've turned down the chance to cater the dinner the city hosts on that large riverboat for Founder's Day _twice_," he explained observantly. "And those are just the times I've actually noticed."

Only Killian would make it his business to know something like that. She raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly returned the gesture. Reaching out for her again, she couldn't help but notice the flicker that changed his gaze. Those eyes went true blue again, evoking that now all too expected plea - _just trust me, Emma._

"I don't intend on changing your fear instantly, love," he assured her. "But perhaps a little at a time...if you'd be open to it?"

_God dammit_, Emma thought as she moved her fingers toward his.

Killian pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist as he grinned at her newfound compliance. He pushed a hand into her hair, holding her head steady as he dove in to kiss her. It was passionate and needy - the kind of kiss that would assist greatly in chasing away her second thoughts.

"Not so bad, right?

The look in his eyes told her that he was inquiring about more than just her phobia. He looked hopeful and protective all at once - an absolutely sinful combination.

"I guess not," she said softly, a half smile turning up at the corner of her mouth. "Not at all."

* * *

"So he sails?"

Killian had set up quite the pile of assorted pillows and blankets on the deck of the sailboat. He leaned up against the helm, slightly shielding them from view as he pulled Emma's back tight against him.

"He does," Killian smiled, kissing her cheek firmly as he wrapped her tightly in his arms and a convenient quilt. "Not as often as _he_ would like though. I suppose that's the burden of the business owner."

"Yeah, I hear you there," Emma nodded, stroking his fingers as she studied the way their hands fit together. "It's crazy how much time it takes to keep things running."

"That it is," he agreed. "What free time has your entrepreneurial endeavor stolen from you?"

Emma had never really thought about it. Business had always been enjoyable and she honestly loved her job. Work usually wasn't work at all.

"Reading," she said with a sudden insight, continuing to run her fingers over his hand. "I guess I don't get to do that as much as I used to."

"Aww, the Swan is a bookworm," he teased, tightening his hold on her when she smacked him on the arm. "What do you read?"

"Uh-uh, my turn now."

"Okay," he smiled, sighing against her. "Shoot."

"What's your favorite?"

He laughed, knowing full well what she was asking. Emma felt her anticipation heighten considerably.

"That's like asking you for your preferred cupcake, love-"

"Red _velvet_," Emma interrupted with a smirk. "You were saying?"

"I don't suppose you've heard of the gladiolus? It's not very well known."

Emma shook her head with curiosity. This was like asking an A-list actor about his favorite movie. Talk about _intrigue._

"It's a tall flower - great for full sunlight. The elderly woman who runs that diner on main street? I helped with her garden when I first arrived here."

"She liked them?"

"Well, I think she does...now," he shrugged with a small smile. "She kind of gave me free reign on what to plant and I chose those after doing some research on what might flourish in Maine weather."

Emma had seen the towering plants with sword shaped leaves and symmetrical blossoms outside the diner when she stopped for coffee. They were colorful and resilient in a way that felt welcoming.

"It was my first botanical endeavor here - and it was successful," he continued. "I guess I liked that."

"I'm guessing there's some additional reason you'd admit to it being your favorite?"

Killian looked as if he was about to answer when suddenly his phone chimed loudly. His hand shot down to his pocket as Emma sat up, allowing him to retrieve it. He gave her an apologetic look as the screen brightened and his eyes began to examine what was needing his attention.

Emma couldn't be sure, but she was pretty positive he hadn't been expecting whatever he read. His face lost a bit of color and his eyes narrowed. His fingers seemed frozen over the keys. Something was wrong.

"Killian? You okay?"

He seemed to snap out of his slight trance, suddenly remembering where they were. He tried to recover with a smile, but she knew something wasn't right. A soft rumble of thunder overhead captured both of their attention, successfully giving him an out for the time being.

"Yeah, fine," he replied, eyes back to the sky. "But we should get out of here before the rain victimizes both of us this time."

He pulled the quilt up around her head, offering some shelter in case the storm was quicker than they were. He helped her from the boat and as they hurried toward the truck, Emma watched his every move.

What was he hiding?

* * *

Sleep came oddly easy to Emma - but of course it would after the strenuous bedtime ritual she shared with Killian. _Twice._

Memories of her back against the headboard and his stubble against her neck drew a smile to her lips as she woke up to the darkness. Stretching a hand across the sheets, the satisfied grin was replaced with a frown as she realized she was alone in his bed. Pulling the thin comforter around her frame, Emma's bare feet met the cool wood floor. The house wasn't huge - it wouldn't be too difficult to find him. In fact, she was pretty sure she knew _just_ where to look.

Emma leaned in the doorway to the open air porch that acted as her florist's greenhouse. Killian's eyes were a studious blue, completely consumed by something - perhaps something _other_ than his current task. His hands were inspecting the thick leaves of some familiar flowers in a planter on the wooden tabletop. Orange and white plus a few yellow ones of the brightest variety - they were the ones he loved. _Gladioluses._ Emma grinned which consequentially led to him noticing her presence in the entryway.

"They're beautiful, Killian."

"I suppose it takes one to recognize one."

She bit her lip at his compliment and he spun on his sturdy stool to face her, a motion that seemed to prompt her to move toward him. He pulled her close, her back against his chest and settled his arms around her so she was all but sitting on his lap. She covered his clasped hands with hers as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I thought_ I_ was the insomniac," Emma commented, leaning her head on his. "I missed you."

He hummed a sigh, kissing her neck and tightening his embrace as she took to caressing his fingers. He was uncharacteristically quiet. Something was _definitely_ up.

"You didn't answer my question - the one from before," Emma reminded him. "You know...about the flower."

"Ah, _that_ question," he smirked half heartedly, nodding toward the flowers in front of them. "The gladiolus signifies strength and constancy - a way of remembrance with the resolve to never give up. Some say it's a flower to symbolize good character and moral integrity. The name comes from the gladiator so it makes sense I guess."

"I have to admit that it's really starting to fascinate me the way your little insights are always so fitting," she laughed, trying for some banter to lighten things up. "It's a little suspicious, Jones. You're lucky I don't feel a need to verify your _facts._"

"You are _ever_ the hopeless romantic, Swan," he teased, tickling her side and turning her to meet his gaze. "What's wrong - don't you trust me?"

"No, I do. I just-"

Emma froze at the widening of his eyes. She'd _admitted_ it - finally and without thinking twice. She really did _trust_ him. He lifted his hand to caress her cheek, smiling into a sweet kiss as their lips moved together. His motions felt natural and Emma sensed how relieved he was. She didn't want the moment to end - she could kiss him for hours. He finally pulled back and took a deep breath, his happiness appearing short lived as a bit of anxiety appeared in his expression.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear such a confession, love."

"I know how much you enjoy a victory, Jones."

"That I do," he smiled softly, reaching to the table where his phone sat quietly. "But I also have something I wanted to tell you."

She arched an eyebrow at him, pulling the blanket tighter around herself as he placed the phone next to the flowers. He looked unbelieving, clearly shaken by whatever this was about.

"Killian, what's this about?"

"It's...it's about the past," he tried, frustration on his face as she interlaced her hand with his. "I didn't want to have to burden you with any of this..."

His voice drifted off and he looked around the room. Grasping the side of his face and forcing his eyes back to hers, Emma zeroed in on him. He sighed, closing his eyes.

"Come on," she said, pulling on his hand. "Kitchen - now."

"Wha...why?"

"Because I'm going to make coffee."

"At two in the morning? Is there a reason you're anxious to stay awake, love?"

"Well, I pride myself on being a good listener," she replied, pulling him to a position where she could loop her arm through his. "And _you_ obviously have a story to tell me."


	12. Delphinium

**Oh Captain Swan...they will ruin me during 4B. They're seriously too cute. I loved how comfortable they were with one another in the return episode tonight! Anyway, here's my next chapter :] I'm glad we all have the shared success of surviving the hiatus, but I hope you'll continue reading anyway ;] all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

Emma's fingers curled around the handle of her coffee mug. It was blue - like Killian's unwavering eyes. Well, like they _usually_ were. Right now they were gray - uncertain and haunted. Emma quickly realized how much she missed the blue.

She'd heard him explain the alert from his phone, but it was only one detail that really mattered - a name.

"Milah."

"Wait - Milah...your-your ex-wife?"

"You've got a great memory for names there, Swan."

"Do you...do you talk to her...often?"

"Not at all actually," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I don't even know how she'd get this number."

"Are you sure it's really her?"

"I don't know why anyone would fabricate a hoax of this nature," he shrugged. "I just - I don't..."

His voice leveled off as he stared bleakly down at the table. Emma watched the way he seemed almost in pain over this fragmented part of his past surfacing. She leaned forward to stroke his hair, an action that caused him to close his eyes. He was so frustrated. He_ needed_ her.

"I'm sorry."

"Killian, you don't have anything to be sorry for," Emma reassured, her voice concerned. "It's not like you are running off with your ex-wife...unless you are-"

"God, Emma, _no_," he almost laughed, shaking his head. "Don't even begin to think that way. Honestly, I don't even know what she wants. Her message said only that she was in the states and wanted to see me."

Emma tried to keep her feelings in check at the thought of this woman reappearing in Killian's life. It was a real wrench in the wheel that had become this whirlwind relationship of theirs.

"Do you _want_ to see her?"

"I want to see_ you_."

His words were so honest that Emma's heart nearly hit the floor in shock. The mixed shades of blue looking back at her told her that he didn't care about Milah - he cared only about how Emma felt regarding the unwanted reminder of his past. He wanted to be honest with her. It melted her heart in a way she didn't quite recognize.

"You're welcome to see me, Jones," she smiled, threading her hands at the back of his neck. "Whenever you'd like."

He narrowed his eyes at her nonchalance. She knew they should discuss this. She knew he needed to confide in someone - to tell her about his past. Yet in that moment, Emma found herself needing Killian.

The lust in his gaze told her that perhaps he was feeling the same way.

"Emma..."

"I know - I don't...I don't care right now. I don't care about her...about this. I want _you_," Emma stammered, running her hands up his forearms. "Just kiss me."

She was so glad to not have to ask him twice. He surged forward, fusing their lips together as he used his hand to guide her body closer to his own. His chest was warm and bare, his lack of shirt appreciated even further at the new proximity. He gripped her sides, sliding his hands to her hips and lifting her. Emma wrapped her legs around him, tightening her hold quickly when she felt the bulge of his thin sweatpants. He carried her quickly to the center of the room, lowering her while he ripped his pants down and pushing the blanket off her shoulders. His mouth hung slightly open as he began trailing his fingertips down her arms.

"Glad to see you didn't waste any time finding clothes before seeking me out, love," he grinned, kissing along her collarbone. "One might say you had something in mind."

"I had _you_ in mind," Emma replied with a laugh, gripping his shoulders. "I guess I wasn't opposed to letting you react to my lack of cover however you saw fit."

"Mmmm," he replied, pulling her up and prompting her legs to return their grip around him. "How I do love the power of free will."

He returned to the passionate act of kissing her senseless and Emma gripped his hair with abandon, gasping loudly when he began to drag his teeth down her neck to her chest. He opened his eyes briefly to search out the brick surface of the beam that ran from ceiling to floor just to the left of where he was holding her. Taking a few steps, he pushed her back against the cool surface, smiling when she shivered against him. He gripped the underside of her thighs as she wrapped her arms hastily around his neck, pulling him close as he thrusted up into her.

"Mmm, _Killian_."

Emma realized that they probably should have been talking - trying to figure out how to handle this obstacle thrown into their happy little...whatever this was. Yet as Killian moved inside of her, she found that what they were doing was resolving things in its own way. This closeness made Emma feel more secure than anything either of them could have said at that moment.

"_Emma_," he mumbled into her hair. "I...oh, you feel so good, love."

He picked up his speed and his movement intensified in the best way. Emma bit her lip as he began to pulse within her. Her own pleasure began to escalate and she dug her nails into his firm shoulders, trying to hold herself tight against him.

"Let go, love. I've got you."

She fell over the edge before he finished his reassurance, moaning loudly against his chest. He growled, breathing heavily on her neck as he followed her with a final, sharp thrust. His motions continued automatically for a moment as they rode the last waves of ecstasy. Finally, Killian leaned back and looked at her hazily. She returned the look instinctively and waited for the kiss that always followed. He didn't disappoint - his lips embraced hers sweetly as he adjusted his grip on her legs.

"Emma?"

"Mmm, yeah?"

"Do you think it would be okay if we went into work late?"

His eyes appeared as if he knew the outlook was bleak - normally it would have been. This was different though. He needed her to stay, but even more than that, she _wanted_ to stay. She wanted to be his haven.

"Yes," she whispered, kissing him again. "I think my boss would be okay with it this time."

* * *

Emma had been trying to keep her hands busy - recording old bank deposits, tinkering with the ad she'd thrown together for next week's newspaper, and even counting the still wrapped and collapsed cake boxes in the storage room. Nothing could get her mind off Killian and this unfortunate development. This wasn't something she had ever dreamed would happen.

Why now? Killian and Milah had been divorced for years. There was no reason for her random return now - and Killian had seemed perplexed about it as well. The idea of this woman - _the_ woman who had clearly hurt Killian in ways Emma might not ever understand coming back into the picture made her uneasy. She'd almost grown protective in a way. She wasn't going to allow his past relationship to ruin things when she actually felt like they might be getting the hang of this dating thing.

Yet she _had_ to have a reason. Maybe Milah wanted money. Maybe she wanted revenge. Maybe she wanted Killian. The thought was not one that Emma wanted to entertain.

* * *

Her office became her hideout early that afternoon. As much as she knew she should be working, the thought of Killian and his past were too relentless to allow it. She felt strange about the whole thing - like she should be angry or jealous but she wasn't. As her concern grew, she only felt one way.

She _missed_ him.

Her head dropped down to lay on her arms that were folded on the desk, deflated and frustrated. She stared bleakly ahead, wondering what he might be up to - how he might be processing the ghost of his past. She felt a sudden tinge of guilt, realizing that what really should matter was how he was handling this. Only an alert from her phone gained her attention. She couldn't help the flutter in her stomach that came with recognizing his name on the screen.

**Killian: Working hard today, Swan? Or do you perhaps miss me as much as I miss you?**

She huffed, a frown on her lips as she thought of how irritating this whole situation was. She wanted nothing more than to be near him - to not _have_ to miss him. Her fingers tapped the keys slowly.

**Emma: Am I truly that easy to read? Even when I'm not visible?**

**Killian: Typically...but perhaps I need some verification.**

She furrowed her eyebrows at his reply. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a loud voice coming from the front area of the bakery. Someone was clearly unhappy about something.

"I don't care how busy she is, Anna! I have a business to run, a huge delivery to prep for, and that _bloody_ recycling bin is right in the way of where I need to park my truck. I don't see why we even need the thing!"

Emma was able to pinpoint that accented voice all too quickly. She was initially confused as to why he was having such an outburst - especially given the recent shift of things - but with a smile, she quickly realized his game.

"Well, I think...uh, Emma is a big believer in keeping our environmental footprint to a minimum and she just figured-"

"I don't care! It's in the way! It's _always_ in the way!"

Emma pulled the door to her office open, trying to appear annoyed. He stormed into view with a conspicuous wink and she used every ounce of composure she had to keep a straight face.

"Is there a reason you're here, Jones?"

"Obviously, Swan!"

His words were all too honest and Emma folded her arms across her chest in faux defiance. Anna looked so apologetic that Killian had to clear his throat to avoid laughing.

"Look, Killian," Emma said dramatically. "I have my _own_ business to run and there are_ customers_ in this store, you ass. If you have a point to make, you are going to have to do so in my office. _Now_."

"Believe me, Swan," he retorted, a playful glimmer in his eye. "I'd be happy to keep making all _kinds_ of noise in your office."

Emma nearly snorted, spinning back to face the empty room she'd been referring to. She felt him move closer, sliding past her with a radiating heat. Emma bit her lip before turning toward Anna once more.

"I'll deal with this," Emma declared with the most convincing exasperation she could muster. "Just...hold my phone calls."

"Okay, umm...Emma, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine. I got it."

Emma slammed the door and she was immediately pulled close by Killian's strong arms. He grabbed her waist, lifting her up as he slammed his lips into hers. She ran her hands over his scalp, dragging her nails slowly and pulling a soft moan from his throat. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and he set her softly against the now locked door, holding her steady with the firm pressure of his hips. Killian's hand stroked her jaw, assisting with the rhythm of the kiss. When Emma finally pulled back with a loud gasp, she was met by a relieved smile and a pair of handsome light blue eyes.

"The recycling bin - _really_? That's the best you could do?"

"Name-calling is equally as pathetic, love," he smiled, trying to capture her lips again. "We truly should work on being more kind to one another."

"You should also work on your rant fabrication skills, Jones."

"I wanted to see you," he grinned, leaning forward once more to kiss her nose. "Logistics weren't my main focus. Plus I figured as long as I was yelling, it wouldn't look out of the ordinary."

"I'm not trying to hide this," Emma told him. "I just figured-"

"That we should remain _professional_?"

His voice was insanely sarcastic as she tilted her head at his suggestion. She hadn't divulged their relationship to anyone - not even Mary Margaret. She'd been too wrapped up in being happy with him to give a damn what anyone thought.

"So I take it you've told Ruby?"

"Of course not," he laughed, lowering her to the floor but keeping her in his embrace. "The last thing that girl needs is another something to prod me about...and we both know you'd be subject to her interrogation as well. It's no secret that she likes to visit you in pursuit of information."

"I don't care what anyone else thinks, Killian."

"I don't either, Emma," he replied, toying with a strand of her hair. "I only care what you think...and how you feel..."

He loosened his hold on her a bit, his expression growing concerned. She noticed his change in demeanor and quickly figured out what caused the shift. He was insecure. He was anxious. He was sorry. _Again_. She hated how he seemed to be taking the blame for this whole thing.

"Look, Swan. I wanted to explain things, but it's just...I didn't know...I didn't expect-"

"Killian, _stop_," Emma cut him off, her hand on his chest. "I don't care. I don't care about this - about...her. I care about _you_. I want _you_."

He looked unbelieving, his eyes trying to dissect her words. Emma wasn't sure he actually believed her so she did the first thing she could think of - she kissed him, her hands on his face and her breathing even.

"You're sure about this, Swan?"

"I might be crazy, but yes," Emma said softly, resting her forehead against his. "I'm here, Killian. I'm not going anywhere."

"Anywhere? So...not even to New York this weekend, eh?"

Emma narrowed her eyes, unsure for a moment about why he'd make such a specific comment. Then it hit her - the mayor's son's wedding. She had secured that gig a while ago, doing the consultation and the baking herself. The mayor and her soon to be daughter-in-law were difficult in the most annoying way which is why she initially opted to volunteer Anna and August to oversee the delivery, but now - now she wondered about Killian's motive for asking.

"The wedding, right?"

"Precisely, love," he confirmed, raising an eyebrow. "Don't think I didn't know we'd be working together again - although I'm assuming you'd already made arrangements for avoiding it."

"In all fairness, I made those plans when I was sure you were an insufferable _jerk_," she teased, running her hands down his biceps. "Perhaps if you'd worked harder at not making me crazy..."

"Emma," he interrupted, locking his eyes onto hers and cupping her face. "Will you please come to New York with me?"

She wanted to. She_ really_ wanted to. It would be a good thing - maybe give them some time to sort through this Milah thing while Emma tried to straighten out the jumble of feelings she had for this man. She needed to know a lot more if she was going to understand what this sudden return of his ex-wife meant. His eyes were a pleading blue, hopeful and honest.

"What am I supposed to tell Anna? I assigned her to go with August to New York. They've been planning on it for a while now."

"If you're saying you'll go," he said, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles. "Then leave that part to me. I want to take you to New York, Emma. I _want_ to be with you. We could leave tonight - spend the day in the city before the wedding tomorrow night. We could...get away from this. Just for a couple of days."

The idea was perfect. Thoughts of getting coffee and traversing the city while kissing him on every street corner spun wildly through her mind.

"Okay," she relented with a soft smile. "But I've got to talk to my employees."

"I told you I'd take care of that," he winked. "You just make sure to be at the flower shop by seven so we can get the hell out of here."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

He hummed in approval of her little nickname, leaning forward to kiss her. She fiddled with the collar of his shirt as he gave her a sultry look before kissing her forehead.

"Now, if you'll _excuse_ me, darling," he said sarcastically. "I have a dramatic exit to make."

"By all means, Jones."

He opened the door with a grin, allowing it to slam against the wall as he did so. Emma let a stifled laugh rumble in her chest as she covered her mouth slyly.

"Just take care of it, Swan," he stated firmly, resuming his well planned rant in an animated tone. "I don't want to have to keep bothering you about something so trivial."

"I trust you _won't,_" Emma glared humorously. "Thanks for stopping by, Killian."

He smirked, exiting quickly with a sneaky half smile. Emma flung the door shut behind her and fell backward against it, sliding to the ground with an uncontrollable smile on her lips. Milah didn't matter. This whole hiccup they'd encountered didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was New York - and what that trip would mean by the time they arrived back home.

* * *

Emma arrived with a lightly packed bag around six thirty, parking her car next to the back exit of Killian's shop. Oh them and their parking dilemmas - it would likely always be an issue...or a point of humor.

Killian had, of course, resolved the situation with Emma's work agenda. Anna had delivered a note to her office shortly after Killian left, a message marked urgent from the mayor's office. She had nearly laughed out loud at the phone number listed for the return call. Dialing Killian's digits, she prepared for her conversation with the "mayor" on the other end. After a few complying words she made sure Anna heard, Emma tried to dissolve the blush from her cheeks while explaining that the mayor demanded Emma herself attend to the delivery. Upon finishing the conversation, Emma attended to the vibrating alert in her pocket.

**Killian: I truly should run for public office, right?**

**Emma: See you at seven, Mr. Mayor :)**

* * *

She smiled at the earlier occurence, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she walked inside. The workroom was filled with tall, indigo and light blue flowers - some single, some in bouquets, and some already packaged for transport. Emma figured they must be the wedding flowers as she lifted a hand to one of the blossoms, stroking a petal with a sense of subtle wonder. Several men were milling about the room, gathering up bundles of flowers and heading outside with them. Robin, the man who had witnessed a few of Emma's irritated interactions with Killian and seemed somewhat afraid of her, appeared and shakily asked for her keys. She offered direction to the bakery's back door, explaining how and what she needed them to gather. Killian had obviously debriefed them on what to do and she watched them hustle across the street to load up the cake into the spot Killian had cleared for it in the truck. She felt her heart skip a beat at his thoughtfulness as she watched the workers take deliberate care while accomplishing the task.

"Oh, you and your affinity for blue," her florist said, appearing in the corner of her vision. "You really should be less obvious, Swan."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jones," Emma teased, moving to where he was standing. "What are they called?"

"Delphiniums."

"They're breathtaking," she offered, smiling as he pulled her closer. "Your choice or theirs?"

"A bit of both," he shrugged, wrapping her in his arms for a hug as she peered up at him. "What? You can't say you're surprised - I have wonderful taste."

"Uh huh," Emma laughed. "I'm not falling into that trap. The last thing you need is my approval."

"Oh, on the contrary," he replied, eyeing her in an adorable manner. "The only thing I _want_ is your approval."

She kissed him softly before pulling back to admire him. He looked insanely handsome in his usual plaid flannel with jeans, his feet in the boat shoes she'd since grown fond of. His hair was predictably messy and still a bit wet from the shower he'd taken quite recently. Emma frowned internally at the missed opportunity to join him. A wet Killian was one of her favorite sights.

"You _have_ my approval," she winked. "As if you didn't know that."

"It never hurts to hear it," he smiled, clasping her hand. "A few of the suppliers I have deliver flowers are here and they've agreed to help me load up the truck. It shouldn't take long. Wait here?"

"Of course," she nodded, hopping up onto the counter. "I'll be here when you're ready."

He gave her an absolutely sinful look, one that told her that her current position held many possibilities. She blushed with a tiny laugh and he shook his head, wandering away before he set his less than appropriate thought into action. Emma watched him walk away, remembering how much she enjoyed that view before pulling her phone from her pocket. She had every intention to briefly check her email, but she quickly found herself researching delphiniums. The definition was easy found and it made Emma smile just as easily as many of the others had.

_The delphinium is a symbol of lightness and possibility - a desire to stretch one's current beliefs and reach new heights in small steps._

"Ready to go, love?"

He looked excited in an adorably boyish way, his hands in his back pockets as he smiled at her. She was immediately glad she'd caved on this trip.

"Yes," she nodded with a knowing smile. "Let's go."


	13. Tulip

**So I thought about the exact way I wanted to write this chapter all day and here's what I ended up with haha :] I hope you all enjoy! Be forewarned - smut ahead...and as always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

* * *

_Stupid, endless, infuriating rain. Emma had been well beyond annoyed by the time she unlocked the bakery's back entrance, shaking the moisture off her umbrella before entering. It had been stormy for weeks - the sugar incident from just before Valentine's Day crossing her mind, adding to her frustration. She'd still yet to meet the mysterious man who was so incessant on screwing up every little process and schedule she had._

_Emma peeked out the window, noticing the lights flickering on across the street. She narrowed her eyes at the sight. It was early - she had a cake to stack for a wedding reception that night so she had been forced to drag herself into the bakery far too prior to the opening hour. What was he - or whoever it was - doing at work already?_

_She began to grab the individual tiers from the fridge, carrying them one by one to her workspace. There were four altogether and she had labored for hours, creating them nearly perfectly to reflect the bride's request. She was proud of this one and that was something that didn't happen often._

_It hadn't been quite sunrise when Emma had arrived, but now there were several slivers of light sneaking into the room. One of them hit her case of cutting tools, reflecting obnoxiously in a way that needed to be taken care of. She wiped her hands on a nearby hand towel and prodded to the window, reaching up to pull the blind and then sequentially freezing._

_It was him. The mystery man - he was outside, sorting through what appeared to be tulip bulbs on the tailgate of the back of his truck. Emma was no florist, but she'd planted a flower or two - enough to at least know what the rounded pods were._

_He was definitely mysterious to say the least - tall, dark, and...no, she wouldn't admit that. His hair was an attractive mess, one that stuck up in several directions and fell against his forehead as he worked. He wore distressed jeans - a pair that had obviously been through many days of labor. His shirt was an almost maroon flannel, set in a series of plaid striping with alternating black and cream. He was more focused and direct than Emma would have ever expected, his hands sorting skillfully and his eyes hovering over the floral project. She bit her lip involuntarily._

_Okay, this guy was one hundred percent, unbelievably, drop dead handsome._

_She was so busy admiring his every motion that it startled her completely when his eyes snapped up and noticed her. She was met by the deepest, brightest blue she'd ever seen followed by a curious smirk._

_Her own eyes blown wide, she dropped the blind and stumbled backward into the countertop. She heard the slide of the plate in time to turn around and watch the top tier of her intricate wedding cake fall to the floor with a splat._

_"Ugh, no! Dammit."_

_Emma slumped onto the stool, rubbing her eyes furiously for a moment before beginning to visually seek out a way to clean up her clumsiness - a mess in the form of vanilla crumbs and matching frosting._

_As she cleaned and shook her head with a blush on her cheeks, she cursed her new neighbor internally and realized that this was probably not going to be the last time he completely threw off her day._

* * *

Emma had dozed off on the last half an hour or so of the drive, the memory filling her shallow dreams and Killian's hand resting on her thigh. She woke to ironic raindrops running down the windows of his truck and smiled at the sight the reminded her of the first moment she laid eyes on him.

"Have a nice nap, love?"

"Sorry," she said with a half smile and a small yawn. "I don't know why I'm so tired."

"I might have an idea..."

"_Hey_," she smacked his shoulder, causing him to feign dramatic injury. "I was about to say that I don't know why I'm tired because...well, because I guess I've been sleeping a lot better since you..."

"I know," he smiled, squeezing her leg. "It's been the same for me, Swan."

Emma returned his grin before gazing out the passenger side window at the quickly approaching city lights. New York City at night had always been intriguing to her and this night was no different - only now she had an equally interesting man to add to the equation.

"I'm guessing you booked a room somewhere?"

"Of course I did, love," he winked, moving into the left lane to merge onto the interstate. "Don't tell me you doubted me?"

"Not for a second."

* * *

"Oh _god_, Killian."

Emma had been moving from position to position for hours - against the door, on her knees, laying flat on the bed. The elaborate, lavish room of the seventh avenue hotel he'd set them up in left plenty of options and the list continued to grow as Killian pulled her up, her back flush against his heated chest. His hands set firmly on her hipbones as he entered her again from behind, both of them moaning a tortured sound at the resumed contact. He began to drag his lips across every inch of her neck, trailing his teeth across the skin until he reached the top of her spine. Emma felt her whole body begin to tingle, causing her to writhe back against him with a forceful shiver. He smirked against her skin, his mouth falling back open as he began to move in a steady rhythm.

"Emma," he groaned. "_God_, you are amazing. I love feeling you like this."

"Yes - god, _yes_. Killian, don't stop. You feel so good."

His speed increased quickly as he splayed his hands across her flat stomach, tugging her even closer. They moved together, up and down as he filled her to the hilt. Emma had never felt such a chemistry flow through her entire body.

"Love," Killian said in a husky whisper. "Mmmm, _Emma_. Do you want to come again?"

"Yes," Emma nodded fiercely, covering his hands with hers. "God, _yes_."

He pulled out quickly and threw back down onto her back, her hot flesh barely meeting the sheets when he thrust back into her. Emma nearly came undone at the change in pressure and position, but she was determined to continue to ride the wave of pleasure with him. His hips began to snap hard against her, Emma's thighs falling further open with each effort. Killian's pace began to grow erratic and he lifted her against him, forcing him further inside her as he began to pulse hard. His sharp gasp and the pleasured moan that followed made Emma come violently undone. Killian continued to thrust, biting his lip as he watched her.

"God, you are so beautiful, Emma."

She hummed with a satisfied smile, taking a deep breath as they both finally fell down onto the mattress. Killian reached for her, wrapping her spent body in his lazy arms as he kissed her once more. He tried to steady his breathing, smiling genuinely at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What's that look for?"

"Oh, nothing," he teased, arching an eyebrow adorably at her. "I just never dreamed you'd be so insatiable."

"Look who's talking," she retorted, snuggling against him. "I think we're both guilty, Jones."

"Happy to be found at fault in this case, Swan."

Emma cuddled up comfortably against him as he drew the comforter around them, kissing the top of her hair as she tucked her head under his chin. He stroked her shoulders and she found herself relaxing at the sound of his heavy heartbeat.

"Emma?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you for this - for coming with me," he said softly. "I like having you here...with me. I like you being _anywhere_ with me."

"I'm glad I came with you," she replied after a moment, kissing his chest. "Your powers of persuasion served both of us well I guess."

"It would appear the way," he laughed, shifting to hover above her so their eyes could meet familiarly. "But I'm serious. I love being with you. I love...this - what we have. Whatever it is. I don't...I just don't want anything to make you second guess that."

Emma knew exactly what was causing that self doubting expression on his face. She needed to figure out a way to put an end to it.

"_Killian,_" she said firmly, gaining his attention. "I don't _care._ This whole thing with...her - it changes nothing. I want this."

"Every time you say that, I honestly can't figure out why," he said after staring at her honestly for a minute or two. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"But I will," she said decisively. "For you."

He smiled sweetly, leaning down to kiss her passionately. Their lips had begun to move in such a talented pattern - like they'd been doing this for years. Everything was so natural. Being with him was...easy. It was so strange, but Emma felt herself become that much more grateful for the simple things in life.

"So," he said, threading his leg through hers. "Recovered yet?"

"_Again_?"

"I've heard fourth time's a charm," he taunted, pressing his lips against her collarbone. "Sounds like a theory to be tested, love."

Emma didn't like to consider herself weak in any way, but in this situation, she'd allow herself to be conquered.

* * *

The next morning, Emma sat casually at a small bistro table outside a nearby coffee shop they'd found. Her morning caffeine intake was occurring much later than normal courtesy of Killian's sensual antics taking over the second they were both awake. As she admired him standing near the register, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry about any of it. She watched him pay, his eyes shifting affectionately in her direction. Emma smiled at him as her heart fluttered softly in her chest.

She hadn't felt this way about anyone in years. Killian was different. He challenged her. He made her laugh while making her swoon and contemplate every aspect of her life all at the same time. He lit a fire within her that she didn't know was possible. He made her think long term - almost as if she could fall in...no, it was _way_ too soon for something like that. She tried to shake the clearly irrational idea out of her head.

She'd noticed the second she sat down that the iron fencing decorating the area near the outdoor tables was scattered with tulips. The bright pinks and yellows caused her to reminisce the way Killian's hands had looked the day she'd watched him work outside the shop for the first time.

"Okay, love," he announced his presence, setting her coffee down on the tabletop. "Caffeine - check. Now that begs the question of what we'd like to do with the rest of our day. Though I can think of _several_ good uses of our time...I'd love to consider your thoughts as well. Only fair, right?"

She nudged him playfully, his arm falling around her shoulders. For some reason, she couldn't drag her eyes away from the flowers.

"Killian?"

"Yes, love?"

"Tulips," she said softly, finally turning to look up at him and his tender blue eyes. "What do they mean?"

"I don't suppose that curiosity of yours will ever cease regarding my line of work, will it?"

"Perhaps not," she shrugged with a smile. "So enlighten me."

"Hmmm, well, tulips can mean many things," he explained, leaning back in a way that prodded Emma to lean her head against his shoulder. "They're one of those flowers that have meanings specific to color. There's a general meaning, but-"

Emma's listening was interrupted when his phone rang, a catchy melody chiming from his pocket. He rolled his eyes, kissing her cheek softly as he sighed. Emma hated that their relaxed morning together had to be interrupted, but she leaned up to let him escape. He eyed the name on the screen.

"It's Ruby," he groaned. "Be right back, okay?"

She nodded, smiling at his exasperation. He was about to pull the phone to his ear when he paused a moment, gazing back to her.

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"Tulips," he began, a half smile on his lips. "They generally symbolize love of...various natures."

With that, he turned away and took his phone call. Emma's mouth hung open a moment as she mused at his response. She watched him discuss god knows what on his call with Ruby, his hands moving animatedly as he paced. She was so perplexed - had he just eluded to what she'd been so irresponsibly thinking? There was no way.

Killian's phone call ended and he began a rather slow walk back to her, looking oddly like a sad puppy dog. She raised an eyebrow at him, curious about his change in demeanor as he flopped back down next to her.

"So not a pleasant phone call I take it?"

"Not exactly," he began, scratching behind his ear. "There's been a little change in the mayor's order for the wedding and she'd suddenly decided they need about six more bloody arrangements for tonight. I have the flowers in stock, but those are obviously back in Storybrooke...so..."

"So," Emma tried to understand. "We need to go back to Maine?"

"No," he said cautiously. "I think I have a way to get the flowers here..."

"Okay, so what's the plan?"

He smiled hopefully, holding a hand out to her as if to say two things: _let's go_ and _just trust me_.

_Typical Killian,_ she thought as she grasped his fingers.

* * *

They stood outside of a small cafe on the upper west side of Manhattan, his arm around her waist as she tried to steady her anxiety. Killian was oddly calm and it made her wonder how he did this - how he looked so cool under pressure _all the time._

"Calm _down_, Swan," he laughed, kissing her cheek and resting his chin on her head. "It's going to be fine."

"Yeah, easy for _you_ to say," Emma laughed and glared teasingly. "I didn't exactly know this would be part of our trip."

"Well, think of it like this," Killian began, running his hands up and down her arms. "At least we're getting it out of the way?"

Emma shook her head comically at him, raising up on her toes to kiss him. He drew his hands to her waist gently and sighed happily against her lips.

"Now that's more like it, Swan."

She was busy falling into his gaze when approaching footsteps alerted her to the beginning of a long, long explanation. Killian's face was threatening to break into a huge smile, but he tried desperately to reign it in as he observed Emma's nervous nature.

"Well, well, _well._"

There it was - the condescending words and sarcastic, knowing tone Emma was expecting. She put it off as long as possible before spinning on her heels with Killian's hand in hers to face the owner of the voice. Killian stifled a laugh, clutching Emma's hand comfortingly and they both met the eyes of a smirking, far too validated girl.

Ruby.


	14. Magnolia

Here we go, friends :] thank you again for all of your wonderful, amazing reviews! I'm so amazed at the support for this story and I truly hope you're all still enjoying it! Thank you for reading and as always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I do not own anything.

* * *

The cafe they'd decided on for lunch was quickly transformed into a place like a principal's office - a location to await reprimand and soak in embarrassing guilt. Emma felt like some sort of ridiculous, errant child being observed intensely. The sight was surely one she never thought she'd be a part of, but here they were - caught red handed with loads of explaining to do.

"_Well_," Ruby began, clasping her hands on the table in front of her and doing her best to fight off a smug grin. "What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

Killian seemed a bit more playfully defensive about the whole thing. He wasn't about to take Ruby's attitude and Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at their competitive stares. He grinned mischievously, turning to face Emma.

"Would you like to take the lead on this one, Swan?"

"Umm, excuse me?"

_Bastard_, Emma thought with a glare. He expected her to explain not only that the two were in fact dating, but also basically concede that Ruby was right. Fortunately, his niece piped up at his deflection.

"Nice try, Killian," Ruby laughed. "But you've been infatuated with Emma long enough for me to know that you probably instigated this whole thing."

Emma's head snapped up at that comment, her eyes jerking to the side to look at him. He was blushing very uncharacteristically and narrowing his eyes defensively at Ruby. Emma tried desperately not to crack up at the way she'd just sold him out.

"Ruby, don't forget who signs your _paychecks_," he almost growled.

_Infatuated with me,_ Emma thought with a satisfied grin. This was just so _rich_.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Killian," Ruby teased, arching her eyebrows at him. "But for the record, it's about damn time - the rest of the world has been waiting years for you two to own up to...whatever this is."

"Yeah, yeah," Killian said, waving a hand at her and taking Emma's with the other. "You were right - we _know_."

"Thank you," Ruby said, crossing her arms with a smile. "But honestly, Emma...you put up with this guy? By _choice_?"

"I was surprised too," Emma grinned as Killian nudged her shoulder.

"This whole dynamic with you two is not appealing," he decided, look from Ruby to Emma. "But if you're done now, Ruby, we've got this...other thing to talk to you about."

Ruby's eyes widened a bit and she straightened her back against the chair. Killian looked apologetically at Emma for the thousandth time and she reached to squeeze his hand.

"She's, uh...back."

Ruby furrowed her eyebrows at him momentarily, leaning her head to the side as she seemed to be sorting through his words. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with shock as she somehow gathered exactly who this 'she' was.

"_Milah_? She's...back?"

Killian pursed his lips, meeting her surprised expression and nodding. He sighed heavily and Emma felt his continued frustration roll off his shoulders.

"Sort of, I suppose," Killian explained carefully. "I got this pretty cryptic text from her a few days back - something about being in the country and wanting to see me."

"How'd she even _find_ you?"

"Good question," he shrugged. "She'd have to have connections with someone back in Ireland - someone who knows where I ended up when I left Dublin. I can't think of who. You know I don't talk to much of anyone back home."

"I'll see what I can find out," Ruby said, pulling her phone from her pocket decisively. "I'm sure someone knows something - especially if she's been asking about you."

He took a deep breath, stroking Emma's fingers softly. Ruby seemed to be something of a social butterfly and it appeared as if she had a few leads on how to get some information for them. Although she had quite a bossy, taunting personality at times, Emma found herself insanely grateful for Ruby's support and knowledge in this particular situation. Irony was sure a funny thing.

* * *

Emma had been dreading the hell that she'd encounter while catering this event since the second she ended the cake consultation. It was precisely the reason she'd roped Anna and August into handling it - the mayor, Regina Mills, was a perfectionist and typically extremely opinionated. Emma didn't mind people who knew exactly what they wanted, but she did have an issue with them trying to pick a fight with her creative muse. Weddings were and had been her specialty for years - she didn't need anyone to explain the finer points of nuptial desserts to her.

She stood in front of the happily-ever-after mirror hanging on the wall of their hotel room. Yes, it was the same one they'd nearly knocked down _several_ times during their mid-afternoon tryst. Emma grinned at the memory, pulling her hair into loose curls with a steady brush.

* * *

_"Good god, Killian. Watch the glass. Oh - oh, god."_

_Emma's back was flat against the wall, a position that had nearly divested said wall of what was surely a very expensive mirror. She'd frozen momentarily at the shaking brought on by her shoulder blades writhing against the surface, but that anxiety faded all too quickly as Killian hoisted one of her legs around his hip and found her collarbone with his teeth._

_"Mmmm, Swan," he growled, pressing his weight against her. "This is a situation where I'd happily afford any damage to the room."_

_"Not superstitious I take it...oh, god yes-" she replied, interrupting her own wit as he pulled his hands up her torso, finding her breast and rolling the nipple between his skilled fingers. "Breaking a mirror is bad...mmm - oh...bad luck..."_

_"I'm feeling plenty fortunate right now, love," he laughed, dragging his tongue along her jaw as he pinned her harder to the wall with a thrust of his hips. "But I think I've got a few ideas that would greatly assist in making you forget all about a bad omen."_

_"Yes - oh god, please. Killian, I need you."_

_"Mmm," he groaned into her neck, his lips twitching into smile she felt on her skin. "As you wish, darling."_

_The mirror vibrated on the wall again as he gripped her fiercely and lifted her against the surface. Her legs wrapped around him and their lips quickly tangled in a hot, passionate kiss._

* * *

The few moments Emma had taken to reminisce the occurrence only hours before drew a blush from her cheeks. She sighed with an uncontrolled smile as she finished her subtle make up and smoothed her dress.

She'd opted to get dolled up, but only slightly - hoping to avoid any judgmental looks from Madame Mayor at the reception. Her dress was soft minty green with lace detail, perfect for springtime and hitting just below the knees. She layered it with a long strand of pearls she'd picked up on a recent shopping trip and covered her feet with her favorite heels. Her hair was contained in a tangled braid, swept to the side delicately.

Killian had left less than willingly a couple of hours ago, knowing he would need time to finish putting the arrangements together while simultaneously avoiding the mayor's wrath. Emma had been showering when he'd slipped out with his stealthy text message.

**Killian: I can't say that I trust myself to come say goodbye to you and actually make it out of here on time given your current state...which I'm sure is quite wet. I hate to go, love. Business is such a buzz kill. Come find me at the party. I'll be watching for you. xoxo**

Emma gathered her things - keys, apron, and a small handbag - and immediately grinned upon seeing the tied bouquet of fresh flowers he'd left on the bed for her. They were white, stunning, and fragrant in a most amazing way. She didn't know what they were, but she knew _exactly_ where she could find out. She found a plastic cup to soak them in before trekking to the elevator. Once inside, the careful drop down each floor seemed to push thoughts of Killian into her head.

She had no freaking idea what they were doing. It was all so unexpected. She was still convinced that she'd possibly stepped into some alternate reality where she'd actually fall for him, but that would require admitting it fully. Had she truly spun herself into some actual relationship with the florist next door?

While it was all so uncertain, Emma quickly concluded that it was more than just sex. Sure, she felt the spark between them every time they hit the sheets. The way he held her and explored her curves was mesmerizing. It was like he k_new_ her - like they'd been doing this for years rather than weeks. They had a connection and while it was very physical - very, _very_ much so - it was something else as well. Killian seemed to understand her. He saw her in a way nobody else did and though she wasn't sure what to do with that, Emma knew that what they had ran much deeper than some casual thing.

They were so similar - kindred spirits in some way. That wasn't something she could dismiss easily.

The thoughts and figures tumbled around in her mind, but once she stepped off the elevator, she felt nothing but her overwhelming excitement to see him.

* * *

The venue was dreadfully over the top. It was clear that the mayor and the betrothed had spared no expense as the place was dressed from head to toe in flourishing decor and pompous guests. Emma rolled her eyes, trying to seek out the kitchen among _other_ things.

The flowers were unbelievable. It had been extremely difficult to ignore that fact as she put the final touches on the cake and watched the kitchen staff work around it. Killian truly had outdone himself and for once, Emma admired his talented work without her guard up. The color scheme was something of a royal nature - blues and whites with metallic accents all over - and Emma couldn't help the way she abandoned her own task momentarily to observe his.

Her fingers touched the petals of a lavish, white flower set on a woodlike stem. It was the same as those he'd left in the hotel room for her, a sweet gesture she was no longer annoyed by in the least. It was a soft, beautiful blossom, but one that seemed to declare the ability to endure as well.

"I know I've eluded to your tendency to stare in the past, love, but I'm having a difficult time disliking it at this particular moment."

Emma eyes has almost immediately jerked to where the voice was journeying from. Laying her gaze on him created a wave of nerves through her body as well as a small twinge of desire as tiny chills fell on her skin.

"Killian."

"Swan."

He was the picture of dapper - if anyone actually still used that word anymore. He wore tailored jeans, gently faded with a crisp belt. He wore his usual simple button down in light blue, but he'd added a tan vest and a black tie. It was definitely not business casual. Emma nearly moaned at how strangely okay she was with his clothing choice.

Plus there were those eyes - those brilliant, beautiful _blue_ eyes. She could easily just drown in them.

"You look...dashing."

"I love the adjective, darling," he laughed, striding slowly toward her. "But _you_ look beautiful, Emma."

She smiled at him as he tentatively brushed his fingers against hers. They'd agreed to keep things under wraps while working, but Emma quickly realized how much self control that horribly respectful idea would take.

"I thought you might enjoy the magnolias."

"Is this you volunteering a free lesson? You know how I love those."

"I personally think they are quite a vision," he mused, invading her space by moving behind her. "Magnolias are love in the purest form - old fashioned and enduring. A love extending through time and space. A speculation of knowing that specific love before - almost as if in another life."

Emma felt her breath hitch as her heart stumbled over his words. She watched him from the corner of her gaze, that tantalizing blue glare setting her on a desire filled edge. She bit her lip and rolled her eyes with a deep breath.

"I know, I know," he sighed, smirking and arching his eyebrows at her. "Best behavior - I _promise_. But you know what that means, right?"

"I'm guessing you're going to tell me?"

"It means I'll be making up for it later," he whispered, slipping a tiny slip of paper between her fingers. "See you in a bit, love."

Emma narrowed her eyes seductively at him as he turned to walk away. God, she hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave. Tearing her vision away, she flipped open the crumpled note.

_Meet me downstairs in the storage room during the couple's first dance - nobody will be looking for us then. I have great remorse about abandoning you in the shower and I'd love to make amends. I'll be impatiently waiting, love. -KJ_

She shoved the note into her apron pocket and shook her head with a stifled grin. This man would undoubtedly be the death of her.


	15. Iris

**Okay - sorry it took so long to post this one. I am nearly done with the next one also :] I don't want to leave you hanging! All rights/characters belong to OUAT. Enjoy... ;]**

* * *

This sight was becoming more and more familiar - and she liked how she was able to wake up to it so often now. Killian was a solid sleeper, something that had perhaps rubbed off on her somewhat. He breathed shallowly and made odd, adorably contented like sighs as he slumbered. Emma had taken the liberty of observing him in this state on several of her sleepless nights - his dark hair a total mess, his eyebrows furrowed, and his face nestled partly into the pillow. She found the strangest solitude in his peaceful presence.

This morning was no different - except this time, the gentle opening of his all too blue eyes told her that she'd been caught.

"Morning, love."

Emma smiled bashfully at his sentiment - she wasn't sure when exactly his little 'darling' and 'love' endearments became so much less annoying. Now they just made her heart flutter suspiciously.

"To you too, Jones."

"I never realized just how much of a habit you have of watching me sleep," he teased, moving his hand to her hipbone. "Quite stealthy there, Swan."

"Mmmm, sorry," Emma mumbled, cuddling closer and prompting him to draw his arms around her. "It's just...nice I guess. Quiet, peaceful...different - I like it."

"It's definitely not so bad," he agreed as her head moved to his chest. "Do you suppose it's something I could allow myself to get used to?"

Emma arched an eyebrow at him, not quite ready to concede but also feeling herself drawn to him in that magnetic way. He looked hopeful as he ran his fingertips down her spine. Killian gave her one of those half smiles, quirky and sweet. She didn't answer, but then again, maybe she didn't have to.

"Hey," he said softly. "I have an idea."

"I'm _sure_ you do."

"No, Swan," he rolled his eyes, pinching her ribs. "An idea of a _different_ nature."

"I'm listening..."

"Will you go on a date with me?"

"A date," Emma repeated, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him. "Like..._now_?"

"Yeah - kind of I guess," he shrugged, snuggling next to her again. "How about today? Let's stay - just for a while..."

Emma was not one to play hooky _ever_. Running a business wasn't for the hourly worker and she knew it was pretty crucial that they get back to Storybrooke. However, the feel of Killian's skin on hers and the way his voice halted as he waited for her answer were far too much temptation. She caved - something she was doing a lot recently.

"So what's your plan?"

"Well, we have to get up," he began, starting a trail of breathy kisses down her neck. "Then we have to shower - preferably together to save _time_...and water, of course."

Emma's back arched as his lips pulled her in, moving slowly down her stimulated body with quite the premeditated action. He hovered above her before lowering his lips to her breasts, parting his mouth and using his tongue to stroke the heated flesh. Emma began to writhe under his ministrations as he wrapped his hands around her, applying a torturous pressure to her nipples.

"I like your idea so far," she moaned. "Then what?"

"I'll take care of that, darling," he assured her, dragging his fingernails gently down her torso to the wetness between her thighs. "Right after I take care of you."

Killian moving between her legs and lowering himself down the length of her body was a feeling that was becoming more and more predictable and one that Emma was learning to enjoy all too well. She allowed her head to drop back deep into the pillow as his hot breath hovered just above her as she waited for his mouth to open and the movement of his tongue against her. He didn't make her wait long and as her body dissolved into the moment, Emma was _very_ glad they'd decided to stay.

* * *

Emma wasn't exactly sure what to expect. After an extraordinarily _thorough_ shower, they had set about planning their morning over breakfast. Killian had spared very little expense on their lodgings, booking them at quite the fancy hotel that she quickly discovered had excellent room service. It made Emma curious - he'd been all but destitute when he'd arrived in the states but her recent experiences with him almost suggested otherwise. She wasn't aware that flowers were so lucrative. _Perhaps it's just smart business,_ she thought. Killian Jones the investment guru - the thought made her grin humorously. She figured it best to store that idea away for later.

He'd ordered them more than a few things for breakfast, filling the small table on the room's balcony. It was an uncharacteristically warm morning for the time of year and they sat across from one another, sneaking sultry glances as they set about eating.

"You know, Swan," Killian began, swirling the coffee in his mug around. "I never had the opportunity to properly court you - well, apart from the one date. Room service and work deliveries don't count."

"That's very true," Emma nodded, cutting into her small stack of pancakes with an interested expression. "Not very gentlemanly at all, Killian. How are you planning on fixing that?"

"I've got it all figured out - don't you worry, love."

His eyes were glistening as he nudged her legs with a taunting foot. She narrowed her own gaze and he reached down to pull her feet up onto his lap, kneading them gently. Emma sighed, suddenly forgetting her breakfast altogether. She liked this - scheming and breakfast and foot rubs.

She liked _him_ \- a lot. Maybe she might even...no. Not that. Not _yet_.

"Love? You okay?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I'm great."

He returned her almost loving expression. The whole situation was so surreal. Emma didn't want it to change in the slightest.

"Good," he said sweetly. "Big day ahead of us, love. I'd suggest you eat your pancakes, Swan...before I do."

"Lucky for you, I'm not above sharing."

At that comment, he leaned forward and stole the bite already dangling off her fork. As he winked at her and reached to refill his coffee, Emma couldn't help but wonder what he had up his sleeve.

* * *

The whole area was the deepest type of green - trees, shrubs, endless grass. Three smaller buildings with dome roofs and surrounding glass walls were structured strategically and several cobblestone paths offered assistance with navigating the whole place. Fountains and ponds provided a beautiful contrast and the trickling water was a smooth sound effect. An iron clad fence surrounded the entire site with a gate announced the name of the location - and it didn't surprise Emma one bit.

The New York Botanical Garden.

Killian held her hand as they followed the walkway leading through one of the large, open ceiling greenhouses. Vines decorated the glass panes sporadically and each side of the path was beyond vibrant with the colors of blooming flowers. Emma has never seen so many varieties in one place - not even back in the floral shop.

"Quite amazing isn't it, Swan?"

"Well yeah," Emma agreed in a distracted manner. "To say the _least_. I mean, it's...there's just...so many."

Her eyes darted from blossom to blossom, taking in the hues and observing the petals. She was completely enthralled. The garden had an education center - a great one actually - but Emma had _Killian_. She mused at her advantage as she plotted her interrogation.

"You've got questions I'm sure."

Damn, was she really _that_ transparent?

"You know me too well," she conceded with a small smile. "But in all fairness, I'm willing to let you pick your poison."

He looked surprised that she was giving him free reign over the flower tour. She watched the wheels turn in his head as he looked around.

"Hmmm. So kind of you to permit me some choice in my own demise," he teased as Emma smacked his shoulder. "Right this way, Swan."

They stopped on the stone path a few paces later, planting their feet in front of a large area filled with some extremely deep colored, relaxed flowers. He peeked at her sideways, knowing she was just waiting for him to educate her.

"The iris," he stated, gestured toward them with a nod. "I though you might appreciate some further variety to go with the visual variety."

"Hmmm. Care to elaborate?"

He thread his fingers through hers, tugging on her slightly as the moved along the fence line. There were so many different colors - irises of all heights and ages. It was a beautiful vision - one she'd gladly get lost in.

"Faith, hope, courage...admiration," he offered, gesturing to a particularly stunning patch of blue blossoms. "Take your pick. Of course all of those apply to you, love."

Emma wanted to smirk at him in that flirtatiously annoyed manner she usually did, but this was the sincere Killian. He was present much more these days and she had a very difficult time disliking him. The feel of his hand in hers was so natural and comforting. She leaned into him a bit, a movement he utilized as he kissed her softly.

"So I can have them _all_ is what you're saying?"

"You, Swan," he began, his arms around her waist as he kissed her forehead. "You can have whatever you'd_ like_ from me."

"You never disappoint do you, Jones?"

"I make a most conscious endeavor not to."

"Thank you," Emma whispered against his lips. "For this - for being...who I didn't think you were."

"Does it surprise you?"

It _should_ \- it definitely should. She'd spent so long learning to despise and loathe him.

"No," she realized. "Not at all."

* * *

They'd spent the entire afternoon together in the big city - wandering the garden, grabbing lunch at an Italian bistro neither of them had been to, and watching the sunset over the skyscrapers. Emma didn't like the idea of leaving this kind of wonderful, but they both had businesses to attend to and she knew the real world wouldn't cease to call.

He loaded up the truck, an adorable pout on his face. It was entertaining to see that he didn't fancy going back home either.

"Ready, Jones?"

"No," he frowned. "But I suppose we don't have much choice, do we?"

"Sadly no," Emma agreed, stepping forward to enclose her arms around his neck. "But I think we'll be fine."

She admitted to herself that for the first time, that statement was completely true. _They_ were going home. They were going to be...together. They would _definitely_ be fine.

"Let's go then, love," he finally conceded, kissing her once more. "Before I change my mind and hold you hostage."

"Is this you offering to _tie_ me up?"

"Mmmm," he grinned, moving so her back was against the car door and his hips grazed hers. "Would you _like_ me to offer that?"

"Maybe," Emma replied, stifling the moan in the back of her throat. "We better get home so you can find out."

"Well...as you _wish_, darling."

* * *

The drive home had been so bittersweet. Emma reminded herself several times that the two of them should visit New York again soon - it seemed to hold such meaning now for some reason.

The sky was dark and though she was tired, Emma resolved to stay awake. He made it easy as he bantered with her about his version of the tales from their rocky past. She laughed lightly at the way he always seemed to cast himself as the protagonist, making it look as though she overreacted constantly. The easy, relaxed relationship between them now was something they could carry home - something she was definitely interested in exploring more.

"Does being back home mean I've got to sleep alone tonight, love? If so, I can always turn the car around and head back?"

"Very funny," Emma replied, squeezing his thigh. "I suppose I could run home and drop off my bag - maybe grab some clothes for tomorrow and come back...supposing that's what you're wanting?"

"I do love how your mind works, Swan," he grinned, arching his eyebrows at her as they rolled up to the last stop sign before the turnoff to his house. "I would prefer to keep you in my bed for tonight...and perhaps the next_ few_."

"I guess I can do that," she sighed happily. "Although I'm starving - would you like me to stop and get us something to eat?"

"You could...or I could make pancakes?"

She smiled at the memory, suddenly very interested in breakfast for dinner. He smirked, reaching down to hold her hand for the small remainder of the drive. Yes - this kind of happy..._this_ was what she wanted with him.

"Deal. Maybe you could find me a shirt to wear as well?"

He normally would have offered some saucy reply at that flirtatious attempt. He normally would have found some way to physically tempt her. He didn't do either of those things, but he did lock his eyes fiercely on the view just outside the windshield. Emma watched his vision darken and felt his body tense, two changes that caused her to wonder what was going on. She followed his expression to the glass, narrowing her own gaze as they pulled up in front of his house. There was a car - one she didn't recognize that had rental plates of some sort. She wondered why he'd be so bothered by something like that, but then, she realized it was the driver who was perched on the porch swing of his deck that had him on edge. She had dark hair and a slender figure from what Emma could see under the dim outdoor light that barely illuminated the darkness. She wasn't sure what was happening - but then she looked back to the unbelieving, almost tortured look on his face. His mouth was agape as he set the truck in park, his face quickly draining of color. Emma wasn't prepared for the name that tumbled from his mouth.

"_Milah..._"


	16. Freesia

**Here's hoping I didn't dangle anyone off a cliff for too long? :] once again, I own nothing - all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

This was why Emma didn't trust people. Nearly a week of sleepless nights, second thoughts, and several unwanted tears was_ exactly_ why she _shouldn't_ trust anyone.

She'd quickly made herself absent from Killian's life even though it had been one of the hardest things she had to do - and she'd built a successful business by herself so that was _definitely_ saying something. Milah was back, shattering the whole new world they'd created in New York. It wasn't expected at all, but Emma _should_ have anticipated it. Some people just weren't built for happily ever after. Maybe she truly was one of those people.

She had thrown herself into work_ literally_. Each work day without him left her with some damaged or destroyed sugary creation - a toppled three tier wedding cake being her personal favorite act of recent clumsiness. She did nearly everything in an absentminded, very un-Emma type of way and it was the cause of mess after sweet mess. It wasn't exactly helping things - and not just _work_ related things.

He hadn't come by the bakery. In fact, she hadn't seen him at all. Killian knew her and he was likely cognizant of the fact that she pushed people away. He probably figured that space was best while he sorted this out - one obvious thing was that he didn't want to hurt her further. Maybe he was waiting for her to contact him. The shop across the street had been operating with a quietness and very businesslike manner. Perhaps he wasn't even around. Emma wished she was less observant so she wouldn't have to guess or even care about his whereabouts.

But she_ did_ care - a lot. She _missed_ him.

Work had been slow and tired of trying to focus on paperwork had worn Emma out, so much so that she'd ventured to the bakery's kitchen. Anna had been manning the front, chatting idly with August while he helped clean the windows. Emma was happy for the solitude as it saved her from having to explain herself, but it was dangerous as well - the quiet more often than not pushed her to thinking. That sort of activity was like to not be helpful, especially in her current frame of mind.

Figuring it best to fill the silence with the sounds of baking, she grabbed several bowls and scattered them across the table. As she began to measure out the dry ingredients for whatever she was about to end up making, her mind inevitably drifted to Killian. She fought the urge to glance out the glass at the store across the way.

_Dammit._ This was _her_ fault. She should have never even allowed this to happen. She should have just continued hating him. She should have spent much more time remembering just how much he pissed her off. Then, maybe this could have all been avoided.

* * *

_"Swan! I need your help."_

_Emma literally burst out laughing. She was in the process of stacking cartons of eggs in a way that would keep them settled and safe in the bag so she could carry them in the back door. She could do it - probably in one trip. Okay, maybe two trips._

_She'd been focused - determined even - but in typical fashion, here was Killian Jones with his usual persistence to ruin her day. She turned around to face him as she shielded the eggs with her back. He looked scrambled - no pun intended. His eyes were wide and the frantic flush of his cheeks told her that he truly did need assistance in some way. He'd clearly dashed across the street and it made her very curious about what caused his speed._

_It was so wonderful to see him flustered instead of her. Oh, the winds of change._

_"What makes you think I'd ever want to help you?"_

_"Come on, Swan," he whined, glancing back over his shoulder. "One business owner to another..."_

_"You mean one annoying neighboring business owner to a professional and respectful one," Emma glared, resuming her task of lowering the cartons into the canvas bag she'd elected to use for transporting them. "And no, Killian - I'm busy."_

_"Emma, please," he begged, his eyes a tempting blue. "It will just take a second. Just - pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for like two minutes."_

_After a moment of studying him and waiting for the 'just kidding' that never came, Emma couldn't help the roar of laughter that erupted at his request. Her fit of giggles left her struggling for breath as she tried desperately not to victimize the eggs._

_"Killian, I don't think I'd ever even be capable of pretending something so absurd," she replied finally, shaking her head. "Why the hell would you even ask me something like that?"_

_"Because the lady who runs the ice cream shop in town wants to set me up with her daughter," he explained in a hurried tone. "She's been coming in almost daily for a week in an effort to persuade me."_

_"You mean to tell me that Killian Jones is not interested in a woman throwing herself at him? What alternate world is this?"_

_"One where I'd literally traverse the fiery caverns of hell before going out with that frigid bitch...and yes, I realize the irony of that statement."_

_"Also, the hyperbole - although it's likely you'd fit in quite perfectly in hell," Emma defied with a smirk, slinging the bag carefully over her shoulder. "But seriously, Jones, I have things to do. Get out of my way."_

_"Emma-"_

_His continuous desperation was cut off by an overly sweet, yelled greeting and wave from the ice cream shop owner. She was being followed to her car by Ruby who was carting a case of perennials the woman had purchased._

_"Hurry, Swan," he hissed. "She's going to try to come talk to me!"_

_"Killian, keep dreaming-"_

_Without warning, he grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her - hard. His lips moved quickly, their softness surprising Emma and making her wonder what would happen if she kissed him back. Then, she heard the sequence of cracks hitting the ground beneath her and the crunch of eggshells under his feet. In the midst of his ambush, the bag had slid carelessly from her shoulder and her careful strategizing of the egg cartons quickly became the least of her worries. Killian looked arrogantly satisfied once he pulled away, a smile dancing across his face. His eyes went bright when he noticed how the woman scowled visibly and entered her vehicle. Emma swore she could hear Ruby's all too amused chuckle even from across the street._

_He'd kissed her. He's actually freaking kissed her. What the hell?!_

_"My fondest thanks, Emma," he grinned victoriously. "I better get back to the shop - you wouldn't believe the amount of work I have to do."_

_"God dammit, Jones!"_

_Only once he further desecrated the broken eggs into the pavement did he wink and jet back across the road. Emma fumed as she watched him, unbelievably irritated that her two trips to the car would now include one more to the nearby grocery store as well as disaster clean up in the parking lot._

_One day very soon, that bastard was going to start getting a bill from her for demolished supplies._

* * *

The memory hit Emma like a bus and she steadied her nerves by pressing her palms on the countertop. She did everything in her power to forget the way the cool metal of the surface felt on her skin when he had her pushed up against it, running his hands through her hair as he kissed her passionately. Taking a deep breath, Emma gathered her measuring cup to try again.

"Good to see you haven't lost your work ethic."

The voice came from the open back door. It was Ruby - yeah, of course. Her words were the typical smugness, but Emma quickly noticed that her demeanor was not. She looked worried - perhaps even a little sympathetic. Emma wasn't prepared for it.

"Yeah, well," she replied, grabbing a spatula to begin folding several other ingredients together. "Just...just staying busy."

"You two are more alike than you know," Ruby stated with the smallest of smirks.

It was pretty obvious she was referring to Killian and perhaps the mode he'd been in since...well, since she'd literally walked away from him. He'd gotten out of the car first, determined to figure out why his ex-wife was sitting on his porch while keeping Emma away from the drama, but just she couldn't watch it. She'd hopped out of the passenger side, grabbing her suitcase and making a bee line for her car all while ignoring his pleas and sweet words for her to stay.

Whatever unfinished business Killian had with Milah was not something Emma was about to stick around for.

"He misses you, Emma."

Yeah, well - the feeling is mutual.

"He asks about you."

She hadn't returned his calls or texts so he had every reason to.

"You need to talk to him, Emma."

"_Why_?"

"Because he deserves that much," Ruby said defensively. "He cares about you more than I've seen him care about anyone in years."

"I know - I...I care about him too, but it's-"

"No, Emma," Ruby interrupted, a silencing hand in the air. "I'm not here to lecture you and I'm sure as hell not about to tell you what to do. I'm here because I'm worried about him...and now about _both_ of you. I've seen you guys together..._hell_, I saw it from the beginning. This thing you two have might be ridiculous, but you're both ridiculously miserable without it."

Emma fought back a tear as she ceased her stirring motion. She didn't like the thought of him being miserable. She especially wasn't fond of the fact that she'd been the one to cause it.

"He's been working a lot from home. I think he was hoping giving you space might...I don't know."

That explained why she hadn't seen him around - why she really begun to miss seeing him in their work environment. She missed seeing him altogether, but she didn't know if admitting that to Ruby was wise.

"So what about...Milah?"

Asking about Killian's blast from the past put a sour taste in Emma's mouth, but she wanted to know what happened. She _needed_ to know.

"All I know is she's not been around - thank god."

"She _left_?"

"Like I said - go _talk_ to him," Ruby coaxed, leaning in the doorway much like her uncle would have. "He's at home...cultivating freesia for something or other."

Emma tapped the counter softly, finally meeting Ruby's encouraging eyes. She was right. No matter what the outcome was, he deserved - they _both_ deserved an explanation.

"Now tell me," Ruby began, trying to lighten the mood. "What are you making that requires one cup of flour, a whole dozen eggs, and...is that _peppermint_?"

God, she _really_ needed to fix this with Killian - and preferably _before_ she went out of business.

* * *

She was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea of going to see Killian when she buckled her seatbelt and tightened her scarf. It had been quite cold lately - maybe that was the weather or perhaps it was the lack of body heat Emma felt in his absence. Either way, it was awful and she wanted very much to resolve the situation.

The drive over was a blur as she tried to remember everything she wanted to say. Maybe she should have rehearsed it a few more times in the mirror. Maybe she should just say whatever came to mind. Why was this whole thing making her so anxious?

Of course she'd been a big enough believer in symbolism to run a search for the meaning of freesia. 'Faithfulness and trust' read the results.

_Ironic_, Emma thought. It was likely to be coincidence, but it was still pretty serendipitous.

She noticed the hazy light coming from the back of the house as she pulled up, shutting off the ignition. He had obviously been busy - the back of the truck was piled with empty crates.

_Workaholic_, Emma thought with a little smile. _God_, she missed him.

She didn't ever use the front door, but something about walking into his work area so casually suddenly seemed intrusive. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to see what he was up to. Then she could go about her plan of attack...or admission. Whatever came first.

Killian was partially hidden behind the height of the bright green stems and budding white flowers, but Emma stretched on her toes for a better view. He looked distracted, his eyes lost and maybe even a bit sad. His familiar hands were covered with tattered work gloves and Emma wondered when he'd started wearing those. She noted the restlessness of his hair and the tense clench of his jaw. When his fingers dipped into the soil, he flipped a bunch of it onto the floor followed by a mumbled curse. It was clear that work wasn't much of a help to him either.

Emma didn't want to further torment him by letting him realize she'd been analyzing his stressed state, but she wasn't able to leave him. She pulled her phone from her pocket and wandered to the pile of firewood he had stacked away from the door. Typing his number, she hit dial - what they'd both been through was worth more than a text message. The line rang twice and when it was finally answered, it took a deep breath for Emma to brace herself for his answering voice.

"Emma?"

_God_, she missed that accent - and that warm, _amazing_ voice.

"Killian - hi."

There was a relieved pause, both of them trying to absorb the presence on the other end of the phone call.

"It's good to hear your voice."

Emma wondered if that was what he truly wanted to say.

"Yeah, yours...as well. I, uh," she stuttered. "I just wanted...I...are you busy?"

"Not at all."

_Liar_, Emma thought as she arched her eyebrows at his willingness to drop everything for her.

"The work gloves say otherwise."

"Yeah, I...wait - how did you..."

He seemed to perk up at her comment, standing up to remove the gloves and holding the phone up with his shoulder while doing so. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he wandered to the window. He froze when he saw her, but a look of intrigue overtook him after a moment.

"You're going to get slivers sitting right there - and isn't it cold out?"

"Both crosses I'm willing to bear," she smiled softly, looking at him earnestly. "Unless you'd like to let me in?"

"I'd love to," he replied, scratching behind his ear. "But, I...why are you here, Emma?"

"I've got a..._professional_ problem that needs solving," she answered, hopping down from the pile. "I figured it would be a good idea to ask a wise man like yourself for some assistance."

He smirked, looking back at her through the glass. He seemed hesitant. She couldn't really blame him.

"Killian, I can go if you..."

"_No_, Emma. I don't want that," he interrupted quickly. "I just...I wanted to know why you're...because I'm glad you're here. I wanted to make sure I'm not hallucinating this or something."

"Not sleeping well?"

"No," he admitted. "Not without..."

_You_, she thought as she silently filled in the blank.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Please," Emma replied, a barely hopeful expression on her face. "If you're okay with that, of course."

He didn't answer, but the back door opened and the call ended. He stood in the entryway - well worn red flannel, dark jeans, and bare feet. His eyes were a new shade of blue...a sad one.

"So, Swan," he said gently. "You're here."

"I am," she said, moving closer. "I've got some business to conduct actually."

He allowed himself to grin at her work related explanation. Moving aside, he gestured inside with a welcoming hand.

"Well, I'm not about to stand in the way if an entrepreneurial endeavor. Do you want to come in?."

Emma pocketed her phone and moved to the steps, nervous about the upcoming conversation and unbelievably grateful for the man who was letting her _back_ in. She hoped she could prove to him - well, to _both_ of them that she actually deserved it.


	17. Primrose

**Okay here we go :] I'm sure this could have been much more angsty, but hopefully it's a satisfying chapter anyway. Thank you all for reading! You are all amazing and your comments on this story have kept it going! All rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

Killian made quick work of the floral mess on his workbench, brushing off stray soil and tossing away cut leaves. Sliding onto the stool, Emma watched him. He looked so tired - and nervous. Yes, the confident Killian Jones was _nervous_. It wasn't as satisfying as it would have been once upon a time.

"Sorry about the, uh...I was just finishing up some work."

"You don't have to apologize," Emma replied softly, trying to sound unaffected by everything. "I know how important it is to stay...busy."

"That's what you've been doing?"

"I've been trying."

He found a seat on the opposite side and finally allowed himself to look at her again. He was so far away - she hated how he had chosen the side completely opposite to her. At first, he seemed guarded and weary of why she'd finally come to him after the days they'd spent apart. It took her a few moments to gather that his actual emotion was much worse. He was ashamed. He had a look of undeserving. It quickly became her least favorite version of him.

A glass vase full of cut stems and crystal clear water separated them and Emma leaned forward to slide it out of the way. She wanted to see him - she _needed_ to. She wanted to be honest and fair. His eyes looked skeptical with the smallest glimmer of hope as he folded his arms on the table top, waiting for her. Emma tried to gather her thoughts as he broke the silence.

"So."

The singular word falling from his mouth didn't clarify much except the fact that he didn't know what to say. Emma tapped the table softly - this was _her_ idea. It was only fair that she had to be the one to start.

"I'm sorry."

He looked interested in her apology, his eyes an earnest blue. He scratched behind his ear as he looked down at the surface below him, his insecurity resurfacing all too quickly.

"Emma, I-"

"No, hold on," she cut him off. "I...just...let me finish."

He straightened, arching his eyebrows at her as if to prompt her to go ahead. She clasped her fingers together and took a deep breath.

"I think you scare me, Killian," she admitted, gazing at him bravely. "I've spent years getting extremely good at detesting every single thing about you and then somehow I find out that you're _this._...guy. You're this amazing, wonderful, caring guy who I never dreamed you could be. You caught me off guard and somehow I wasn't able to go back to what we had before - and I didn't _want_ to I guess. That was the scariest part of the whole thing."

She paused for a moment, trying to gauge his emotions. He looked stoic - perhaps waiting to take it all in before giving anything away. Well, no turning back now.

"I care about you a lot...so much - and caring about people is not my thing," Emma continued, her breath shaky. "But then there's you...and I just didn't know what to do when I finally allowed myself to care about you. Everything was so wonderful in New York - the drive, working at the wedding, the hotel. Then I spent the day with you and I knew that...that this was more than just something."

His eyes lightened a bit at that and his shoulders lost an ounce of tension. The tiniest movement of a smile began to threaten the corners of his lips. It was the possibility before her than encouraged Emma to keep going.

"I was ready to come back here with you - to be honest and happy and just _be_ with you. I was ready for all of it. But then..."

Her voice faltered and she stuttered, taking in a sharp breath. He furrowed his eyebrows, knowing where this roadblock in the conversation was taking them. Emma had to keep talking - she wasn't going to make the mistake of saying nothing again.

"I just...I didn't realize that she'd ever come back into your life. It hurt - it was hard to take such a sharp turn in the opposite direction...going from bliss to haunted in a split second. I guess I left because...because I didn't know...I didn't know what I'd do if her being here _meant_ something."

His eyes were narrowed, hooded by his expressive eyebrows. His mouth parted slightly and he shook his head so slightly that she almost missed it. He pursed his lips hard and locked a fiercely blue stare on her insecure green one. Now this - _this_ was appalled Killian. Emma wasn't as familiar with this man.

"Killian," she tried, barely above a whisper. "What...what _did_ she want?"

His posture straightened and he tightened his jaw. He seemed to be very at odds with the situation himself and Emma immediately wondered if she'd soon regret her question. She tried to prepare herself for his answer - even if it was the one she feared.

"Me."

After a moment, Emma forced her eyes back down to the wood of the workbench. Of course - why else would she show up? It still didn't make it hurt any less.

"Emma..."

The use of her name was like a small twist of the knife she felt piercing her heart and several tears began to gather at the corner of her eyes. She bit her lip, trying to gather her composure. She didn't get much time to do so. Killian's stool shifted and the scrape of it on the floor told her that he was done sitting alone.

"Emma," he breathed softly, turning her stool to face him and kneeling down to where she'd be forced to look at him. "Why haven't you tried asking me what _I_ want?"

She'd been so focused on Milah's sudden return that she didn't even think to ask Killian how he felt - what it meant to him. Maybe his response wouldn't break her. She had to try. Emma allowed him to tilt her head back up with his fingers under her chin. She felt herself drown in his eyes as she readied herself to ask.

"What do you want, Killian?"

"Emma...I want _you._"

She barely had time to process before his lips met hers, his hands following as they cupped the sides of her face. Relief filled her entire body and she sighed against him. Killian's mouth twitched up into a soft smile as he stroked her jaw, the reassuring kiss filling the void between them. When he pulled back slightly, Emma found that his expression had softened, but he still looked as if he had more to say.

"Emma, I want _this_ \- I want you. I've always wanted you," he said gently, thumbing through her hair as he used his hand to guide her eyes to his. "I've never had a second thought about that - not since the first night I kissed you - and that was what let to me immediately sending her away that night. I still don't know her entire purpose for being here and I don't care. The only thing I cared about was the fact that it drove you away. I should have gone after you - I_ should_ have and I wanted to. I just thought...I didn't know if you'd want me."

It was Emma's turn to look shocked. How could he think something so insane?

"Her showing up here was a reminder - a reminder of what a broken man I am. You deserve better, Emma - so much more than that. It wasn't fair to ask you to accept this...to settle for someone like me."

She wanted to slap some sense into him, but instead, she moved her hands to the back of his head. It required him to keep his eyes up and focused on hers so she could rectify his ridiculous conclusion.

"Killian, I've never cared about your past. I don't care about what you've done or where you've been, but I _do_ care about the fact that it led you here. Milah showing up never changed how I felt for you - it just...it terrified me. I didn't think I could handle it if you went back or if you changed your mind. I couldn't take it if you chose her."

"Swan," he said, sighing softly as he leaned his forehead against hers. "This was never even a contest. It's _you._ I want this. I want you...so _much._"

She never imagined that being back in his arms would feel as wonderful as it did. It was enough to make her move the few inches up to capture his lips. He hummed in approval, raising up and lifting her from the stool to the counter top. Killian lowered his hands to her waist to graze her hipbones and Emma wrapped her arms gratefully around his neck. His lips moved in the pattern that she loved as he lifted one hand back to her face.

"I missed you, Emma..."

Emma leaned back just enough to locate his heated gaze. It was so honest - more so than she'd ever seen. He took a trembling breath and blinked hard as a smile crawled across his lips. When he opened his eyes again, Emma ran her hand across his hair.

"I missed you too," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Killian. I was so-"

"Emma, love," he said carefully. "It's okay - we will...we're going to be okay."

He meant every word. That was all she needed to hear.

Killian dove back in, a bit more gently this time and pressed his lips flush against hers. Her heart began to race when he lifted her by the back of her thighs, her legs embracing his torso. With a strong resolve, he pulled her tight against his chest as his kiss grew more intense. He pulled back to turn in the direction of the hallway that led to his bedroom and Emma took the opportunity to drag her lips across every inch of his neck. He moaned a quiet sound and began the short journey across the wood floors.

He reached the open door and turn to the left to push her gently against the door frame, moving his mouth back to hers a final time. Moving backward, he lowered her to the ground and gazed at her intently.

"Emma..."

"Mmmm?"

He didn't say anything. He seemed unsure as to whether or not she was ready to hear it. Emma didn't need words - she never did. His eyes had always spoke volumes to her and in this instance, they told her that he was falling _desperately_ in love with her. She smiled softly in reply.

"Killian," she said in a careful whisper. "Make love to me."

It was a breathy request and Killian looked as if she'd just asked him for the world - one he was all too happy to give her. His hand drifted to the bottom of her sweater, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before he lifted it slowly over her head. His eyes didn't leave hers the entire time, a trusting gesture that Emma began to revel in. She reached to the buttons of his flannel, undoing them meticulously before pushing the shirt from his shoulders one at a time. Her fingertips met his flushed skin and he closed his eyes, melting under her touch. It was a moment that Emma never anticipated - but she was so amazed by the man on the other side of it.

He took her by surprise again, moving his hands to her shoulder blades and pulling her to the bed with him. Emma sat down, her legs off the edge of the comforter and Killian standing in front of her. He hovered carefully, lifting her chin so she gazed up at him.

"Emma," he smiled gently. "Lie back."

"In a minute," she grinned back, using her fingers to tug the button on his jeans as she looked up at him from hooded eyes. "I don't think these are necessary any longer."

"Perhaps you're right," he laughed softly, stepping out of them and pushing her backward to the sheets. "We better get rid of yours too so you can follow directions for _once_ in your life and lie _back._"

It was a combined effort for Emma's jeans to tumble to the floor, but within minutes, they were in the familiar state of naked and wanting. His lips locked back on hers and he rolled her to her back, rising above her to thrust into her. The slow, sliding motion created a sensual friction that had Emma writhing in seconds.

"_God_, Killian. That feels so, _so_ good."

"Emma - _yes_, love. Yes."

He jerked his hands to her backside, gripping and pushing her legs up around his waist. His movement became more deliberate and fast. Emma moaned uncontrollably as he thrust into her over and over, the passion building between them. The pulsing between her legs told her that he was close. Thank god - so was she.

"Emma, _god_...oh..."

"Killian, _please_...god, don't stop. _Yes _\- please make me _come_."

He pounded his hips against hers, groaning loudly in her ear. Emma felt the release building, her breath vibrating beneath him as he thrusted endlessly.

"Come, Emma. Let go."

She began to fall, nearly screaming at the pleasure her body was experiencing as she came hard. Her passionate whimpers pushed him to the limit and he followed her, the warmth spreading into her core. He moved automatically, his hips rutting against hers as he felt forward with his head against hers. Emma sighed, her lips meeting his.

"Killian."

"Hmmm?"

"I think...I..."

He knew what she was about to say and he grinned against her skin. She should say it - she should tell him how she felt and honestly how she'd been feeling for quite some time. She bit her lip as he rolled to her side, his hand at her jaw.

"Emma," he said earnestly. "I know."

"You _think_ you know _everything._"

He laughed, stroking her arm and snuggling up against her. The moment grew focused despite the happiness radiating between their bodies.

"Maybe not _everything_, but it doesn't take a genius to know that you love me," he feigned arrogance, a teasing smile on his lips.

"You are so _arrogant_..."

"I only know _you_ do, Emma," he said, snatching the hand that was about to slap his bare chest. "Because _I l_ove you too."

It was those words that confirmed Emma was a fool for staying away from him - even for just a week. His strong arms felt like home as she nuzzled closer, listening to his steady breathing and his comforting heartbeat.

"Sleep, love," he whispered, kissing the top of her head and adjusting his arms around her. "I'm sure we both could use it."

"Yeah," Emma mumbled, a wave of relief at her ceasing insomnia. "You have no idea."

He yawned because - yeah, he had a pretty good understanding. Emma settled closely to him as she dozed off peacefully for the first time in days.

* * *

Emma woke to the morning light trickling in through the bedroom window and a gentle breeze blowing in through the open glass. She quickly remembered that the bakery was being opened by Anna that morning and she was beyond grateful she'd arranged that. The bed next to her was empty and she ran her hand over the sheet, wondering where her favorite florist could be. She was about to pull the sheet around her and begin her search when she noticed the vase of water and the peach colored flowers inside. She felt her heart flutter at the typical gesture. A card set against the glass container beckoned to be read and Emma curiously focused on it.

_Primroses for your patience and belonging. Peach because it reminds me of the way your skin looked in the glow of the sunrise this morning. I owe you pancakes - and I love you. Come to the kitchen when you wake. -Killian_

He was unbelievable...and he _loved_ her. Emma was still convinced she hadn't actually woken up yet.

She wandered to his closet in just her underwear, pulling a light blue flannel from a hanger and breathing in the scent. It was floral of some sort, but more so - it was _Killian._ She rolled the sleeves up and ran her fingers through her tangled curls. She smirked as her feet began to pad softly against the cold wood floors.

The soft scratching of the vinyl record playing in the kitchen was so welcoming, but even more so was the sight of a shirtless Killian standing near the sizzling griddle. He was humming happily, a spatula in hand and in made Emma grin wildly. She leaned in the entryway, observing his actions for a moment - but then he noticed her. Their smiles matched and he arched his eyebrows. It was an invitation - one that Emma gladly accepted as she wandered to the counter.

"Morning, love."

"_Good_ morning, Killian."

He handed her a plate and leaned in for a sweet kiss, the remnants of warm syrup on his lips. She shook her head at him and laughed softly, taking a deep sigh. She couldn't decide if this world she was in was real or not.

"So," he began, wandering to her side in his sweatpants. "Now what, love?"

Emma cut into her breakfast, holding her fork out to him. He grinned and took the bite she offered. She didn't care what came next - breakfast was all too appealing and there was no reason to question it. Not anymore.


	18. Chrysanthemum

**Okay sorry this took a little longer than anticipated! We are sadly nearing the end :[ but I have a new story brewing and I got bored during my own bout with insomnia last night so I made an edit for it. I'm going to post it on Tumblr soon so you can watch for it and try to figure out what my path will be with my new fic ;] BUT, we still have a couple of chapters left here so stay tuned. Enjoy and as always, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing.**

* * *

Emma quickly learned that her boyfriend - yeah, it was such a _ridiculous_ term - did not _actually_ write the book on flower symbolism. Killian did however have a steel trap mind and a constant desire to learn. Oh, plus he had an uncanny, irresistible love for her. Yeah it was pretty clear _that_ little detail was a contributing factor to his motivation

She had figured all of this out one day when it had warmed up enough to visit his outdoor greenhouse, a small structure built down by the fence just near his woodshed. Oh, Killian chopping wood - she would definitely have to witness _that_ spectacle one day very, _very_ soon.

"Daisies?"

They'd been keeping one another company for an hour or so, Emma observing the floral surroundings and quizzing him as he worked. It was a Saturday and Emma had found her schedule oddly open. She loved having a chance to see Killian, even if he had to work - well, especially if he had to work. It was always a brilliant sight to see him maneuver his hands around the stems, leaves, and soil of each plant. He didn't have much to do, but they seemed to serve as equal distractions for one another. Emma's subtle brushes up against him and Killian's wandering hands were not exactly advocates for productivity.

"Not my favorite," he sighed, repotting several young plants as he spoke. "But - happiness and positivity. Pretty predictable if you ask me."

"Killian Jones hates happy and positive things - _what_ a revelation."

He narrowed his eyes at her playfully and Emma simply batted her eyelashes as she continued wandering the greenhouse. She searched for flowers she could name and although he'd provided her with quite an education recently, it was still difficult to stick a label on many of them. Killian seemed to sense this as he labored - his eyes following her comically as he waited for her questions.

"And this is..."

"Lilac," he confirmed, stretching to see the purple flowers she was gesturing toward. "A sign of good old fashioned romance and love - also announcing the arrival of spring. Take your pick on that one, love."

Emma gave him a teasing glance, one that told him two could play his flirty little game. She sauntered along the planted pallets, swaying her hips in a way she knew would drive him at least a little crazy. When she finally stood in front of a long planter of small blue blossoms, she tossed a glance back over her shoulder to find him with his elbows on his knees and one hand stroking his chin absentmindedly.

"And these?"

Killian chuckled to himself, grinning adorably at her. She was becoming used to that smile. It wasn't a horrible dependency.

"Forget-me-nots," he smiled. "I'd offer some input, but-"

"Yeah, that's pretty self explanatory," Emma nodded, a smirk on her lips as she turned toward the flowers at the end of the row. "One more?"

"Ah, those," he said, standing and brushing the soil off his hands. "Chrysanthemums."

"I've seen those before," Emma realized, smiling at her recognition. "You used to have them in pots outside of the flower shop - usually in the spring I think."

"Look at you, Swan," he laughed lightly, moving toward her. "I mean I always knew you liked to watch me, but-"

"Oh, _stop_," Emma said, swatting him on the chest when he appeared at her side. "I'm in the middle of a learning experience so if you _don't_ mind..."

"You know, sadly I don't know much about this one," he conceded with a sigh, caging his arms around her middle so she leaned back into him. "But I do have this - it's become somewhat helpful."

He held out an old, tattered pamphlet type of book that had faded words and an old photograph of flowers on the front. It was a guide to symbolism - ah, _this_ is where he'd been getting his information. _Quite the clever little student,_ she thought as she opened it up.

It took a moment to flip to the appropriate page, but once she did, she rested her back against him as he held her close. His chin rested on her head as he allowed her to read.

"Chrysanthemums have the symbolic meaning of being everlasting. They are a sign of magic and wonder, enduring a moment that could last forever."

Emma ran her thumbs across the pages, curiously trying to figure out why she'd been coerced into teaching herself about this one. Then it hit her - and she should _not_ have been surprised.

"You are _the_ worst," she smirked, turning to face him. "You _knew_. You knew and you still made me read it, didn't you?"

"Oh, Swan," he smiled, biting his lip slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean - I don't see why I'd _ever_ deceive you like that. Bad form, love."

"Yeah, yeah, it's _some_ kind of form for sure," she chided, reaching up to scratch the back of his scalp. "I don't know why I'd ever expect anything other than torment from you."

"Hmmm, true I suppose," he replied, tilting his head from side to side. "But at least the 'tormenting' has become much more fun and..._pleasant_. For both of us, I believe."

She laughed at this and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him. He hummed sweetly against her lips, resting his palms against her sides so he could keep her close. Emma was spinning before she knew it - kissing him had a way of doing that to her. When she pulled away, his eyes were that loving blue and he pressed a final kiss to her nose.

"Perhaps that's enough torture of the floral nature for now, love," he said willfully. "Let's go inside and I can prove to you that I can indeed torment you in a multitude of _other_ ways if you'd prefer those instead."

"Spoken like a true romantic," Emma groaned, rolling her eyes at him. "I don't know how I ever resist you."

She began to stroll out of the greenhouse when he quickly snatched her wrist and pulled her to him, lifting her up over his shoulder. Emma nearly giggled, her breath hysterical as he carried her all the way back to the house. Once the reached the back door, he lowered her and cupped her flushed face in his hands while she regained her composure.

"The real torment would be if I had to work alone today," he explained, stroking her jaw. "I do get quite used to having you around to ask me questions and stroke my ego."

"_Hmmm_," Emma began, moving close enough to his lips to whisper. "Stroking, did you say?"

He growled with a grin at her comment, kissing her hard as he ran his hands up and down her back. Emma knew the amazing, oh so suggestive routine - she hopped up to wrap her legs around him instantly and he settled his palms under her as they tumbled back into the house.

* * *

Emma was thrilled to lessen her constant battle with insomnia, but as she knew, old demons die hard. She had spent years as the slave to fretful sleep and she couldn't expect the unfortunate habit to disappear just because she was sharing sheets with the 'greenhouse guy' - as Anna had dubbed him long ago.

Most nights she drifted into a deep slumber, Killian's patterned breathing and protective arms assisting her rest. In fact, most nights she was so sated and physically exhausted to the point of dissolving into his embrace via endless cuddling and sporadic kisses.

But that was most nights - not this one.

She found herself torn from a solid sleep for no reason whatsoever around two in the morning. It wasn't as unpleasant as it used to be - she slept in the same bed as him nearly every night now and she found it more bearable with this comforting man in such close vicinity. She allowed her eyes to flutter open as she heard the beginning droplets of rain tap the window. The room was dark for the most part, but Emma's eyes had adapted to the familiar lack of light quite well over the years. She rolled over carefully so as not to wake him as she sighed as soft as possible.

He seemed to sleep more at ease with her there - or at least so he said. She liked to believe him when he said such things. His eyebrows were weakly furrowed as his chest exemplified his even breathing. His hair was a total wreck - their bedtime activities caused it to stick out and up in all directions. He looked sweetly content. It made Emma smile to herself as she gazed at him.

She hated the way the thought crept in at times like this. It was definitely uncalled for - to be randomly pondering Killian's ex wife at this hour. But Emma couldn't completely wrap her mind around it and it was something she didn't want to bring up with him. They were _finally_ happy. No more flirtatious hate or competitive sexual tension. They were together - even after everything.

But she just couldn't shake the questions tumbling around in her mind. She wondered about what their marriage had been like and just exactly how Milah had broken him. She didn't like to think of Killian in the aftermath, but she was curious about how the whole thing changed him. She wondered which man Milah had come back for - the one she married or the one Emma was in love with. Something told Emma that those two men were quite different from one another.

"It's far too ungodly of an hour for the wheels in your head to be spinning so hard," Killian mumbled with a yawn, turning to face her but keeping his eyes closed.

"I'm well aware of what time it is," Emma grinned halfheartedly, moving into the arms he'd opened for her. "Go back to sleep, Jones."

"A trifle bossy, aren't you?"

"It comes with running a business - I figured you'd understand?"

"Mmmm," he agreed, smiling as she nuzzled into his skin. "I'll deal with it I suppose."

Emma sighed a quiet laugh, leaning her ear to his chest and listening to the consistent beating - one that had lulled her to sleep many nights in the past weeks. She didn't have to look up at him to know he was still awake.

"What's on your mind, love?"

"Nothing," she replied, trying to toss out the insecure thought she'd been swimming in before he woke up.

"Emma," he said softly, stroking her side. "One day you shall figure out that you're far too readable."

Even after the way he'd done it so frequently lately, the use of her first name falling from his lips still gave her the strangest butterflies.

"Oh yeah? It sounds like you're calling me an open book, Killian."

"You are a _perceptive_ open book it would appear."

She hesitated, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He used a thumb to push gently on her ribs as he tried to coax her to talk.

"Out with it, love."

She caved, figuring it was now or never - plus, she truly did want to know.

"How long were you married?"

The question hung thick in the air, but not in the way Emma expected. He peered down at her like he had expected she would have asked something like this much sooner. He took a deep breath and shifted them so that Emma could look right into his serious blue eyes.

"Six years," he said in an honest tone. "We got married much younger than we should have - especially obvious now given the outcome."

"Not the quite the happy ending then?"

"Not at all, no," he almost laughed. "We weren't good for one another - well, more like I wasn't good _enough_ for her."

Emma stared hard at him. His expression softened and he seemed to close off just a bit. It was strange to see the effect that his comment had on him. She didn't like it one bit.

"Killian," she said, trying to catch his vision again. "Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true," he sighed. "Because that's really what she thought."

"Yeah, but-"

"Swan," he interrupted, tickling her back. "I didn't say I _believed_ her."

Emma let out a harsh breath, one that was relieved at the idea of a resilient Killian Jones. She wondered how long it had taken him to accept the idea that Milah was wrong - that he was _more_ than enough.

"Milah just...she had her own set of issues," he explained. "Whatever was going on with her would eventually cost us the marriage - it was pretty inevitable."

"So you regret it?"

"I try not to have regrets, love," he smiled tenderly. "The man that fell in love with Milah...I don't know him anymore - and I don't miss him. It was a part of my life...something that happened to me. But it led me here, right? So I'd dare say it's not all for naught."

She grinned at the idea. Stretching up carefully to kiss him, he did that familiar humming against her lips and Emma settled with the ghost of his past - well, almost.

"So when she came back," Emma began slowly. "What did she say?"

"She made some half effort attempt to try and convince me to give us another try. I think even she knew it was a pretty big shot in the dark. I don't know why she'd ever think we could be together again when it's been years since she walked out on me. I guess it was time karma headed her way - I finally got a chance to ask _her_ to go rather than being the man waiting to be left."

"Is that an interesting change of pace for you, Jones?"

"Despite the heartbreaker you seem to think I am," he smirked, kissing her forehead. "_You_ are the first woman I've thought twice about since Milah."

"Oh yes, Emma Swan the _savior_," she teased. "Rescuing the souls of the brokenhearted since...a few weeks ago."

"I must beg to differ there, Swan," he laughed. "You starting saving me the second you starting giving me hell."

"No, Killian - _you_ started it!"

"Mmmm," he taunted, rolling her to her back. "Right. Well in the spirit of tradition, allow me to replicate that action of starting something..."

He hovered above her, tucking her hair behind her ear before leaning down to kiss her. She liked when he pressed his lips against hers in this way - it was genuine and passionate in a way Emma didn't know was possible. He settled his hand at the back of her head, prompting her to follow the movement of his mouth with her own. Emma moaned subtly and he picked up the pace of the kiss, angling his hips against hers in the process.

She was once again _very_ grateful that they'd ended up sleeping naked.

Killian hitched her leg up around him, moving into her with a torturous, slow motion. Emma's voice hitched in her throat as he began to move carefully.

"Killian, oh - yes..."

"Emma. _God_, love. You are so beautiful."

He was so sincere in moments like this. He was making love to her - and she was unbelievably in love with that notion.

"I love you, Killian. Oh...god, _yes_."

He began to thrust deliberately, flexing his hand against her thigh as he moved deeper. Emma gasped hard, clutching his shoulders and digging her nails in softly.

"You feel so good, love."

He carefully flipped them over, anchoring her on top of him as she began to move in a seductive, calculated way. Her hips rolled over his, drawing an amazing sound from his throat.

"Mmmm, _Killian_..."

"Yes, love. Let go."

Emma pushed down harder on him, her pleasure building as he thrust upward in pursuit of his own release. It didn't take much longer for his hips to stutter and for them both to let out a sensual sound, coming in sync with one another. As they rode out the remaining waves, Killian pulled back to gaze at her.

"Emma," he whispered. "It's you - no matter what happened, no matter how many times she could show up...I'd pick you. I'd always choose you."

She smiled against him, rolling them back to their sides and leaning up to kiss him. His lips were soft and wonderfully honest.

"I love you," she replied, running a thumb across a small scar under his eye. "So I'd allow it."

"Good," he grinned, dragging her back to lay against him. "Now are you ready to sleep, Miss Nocturnal?"

She didn't say anything - she just kissed his chest and waited for the slumber to overcome both of them. It didn't take long.

* * *

Emma reveled in her victory over insomnia the next morning. Killian had a way of helping her work toward evening that score. Speaking of her late night company, where _was_ he?

She sat up, pulling the sheets closer as the sunlight drifted in through the window. She knew he was an early riser and normally, she would have pulled a blanket or one of his shirts around her to go looking for him. Yet today, she was startled by the padding of his feet outside the door. He entered, shirtless in dark blue sweatpants with sinfully ruffled hair. He smiled at her, holding up a mug of coffee. God, she loved this man.

"I was hoping you wouldn't actually _need_ this too much," he shrugged, moving back into bed and propping himself against the headboard. "Did you get any more sleep after our...chat?"

"I did," Emma laughed, noting his terminology and reaching up to smooth his wild dark bedhead. "It appears that you did as well."

"Quite the team right, love?"

"Oh, I guess," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You may have to prove that to me though."

"Gladly," he smirked, arching an eyebrow at her. "But first, darling, it's Sunday - and that means one very important thing."

"What's that?"

"The crossword," he announced, holding up a newspaper with childish anticipation. "I thought you might like to help."

"I like a challenge I suppose," she conceded as she trying to peek at the clues. "Give me one."

"Well I did some of it already," he admitted, pulling the pen from his pocket and clicking it for her. "But I found one you might find interesting. Try twenty one across."

Emma snatched the paper, narrowing her eyes playfully at him as she twirled the pen in her fingers. She zeroed in on the vague clue.

_A pom-pom type flower of 140 different types._

God, she was not even close to classifying herself as any sort of florist. She bit her lips and counted the boxes. _Thirteen_ letters? Could he have given her an easier clue? Good hell, it was still early.

"I'd think such an educated woman would recognize the description of her lesson's subject from yesterday."

Oh. Of _course_. She glared up at him, realizing his game.

"You're lucky I'm a good speller."

"Add it to my good fortune, love."

She formed the letters of the flower's name and handed the pen back to a widely smiling Killian.

_C-H-R-Y-S-A-N-T-H-E-M-U-M._

"Well played, Jones."

"Thanks, love," he grinned, kissing her gently. "I thought so too."


	19. Oleander

**Okay :] this one took a bit longer - apologies! I've been torn between this and my new fic, but I have been quite inspired to work on both so hopefully this chapter still lives up to expectations. The use of the flower is a bit muted here, but I think it's alright...haha. Anyway, all rights/characters belong to OUAT.**

* * *

"Something you _need,_ Anna?"

Emma had been cleaning the bakery kitchen, sweeping up stray specks of sugar and organizing spatulas. It wouldn't have been such an out of the ordinary sight - she did tasks of a similar nature several times a week. It wouldn't have invited a reaction from anyone, but this time, Emma was humming.

She hadn't even noticed she was doing it until she noticed Anna's skeptical gaze dissecting her demeanor.

"Uh - no," Anna replied, clearing her throat as she returned to scrubbing mixing bowls. "You're just in a really good mood today...I mean, not that you aren't usually. You just seem happy about something."

Emma froze momentarily. She's truly hoped she could avoid this moment - but she now realized just how asinine that idea was. It still didn't mean she was about to give anything away without a solid stab at playing dumb.

"Yeah I guess...I guess I am."

"Hmmm," Anna began, drying her hands on a towel as she turned to face Emma.

"If you've got something to say, you're welcome to say it."

"I'm just trying to figure out why," Anna said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Because the only thing that has changed is the amount of screaming you're doing in regards to Killian."

_Oh if she only knew,_ Emma thought as she tried to fight off a blushing grin.

"You know, it's almost like you...like him."

Emma glanced at the girl with surprise, pursing her lips humorously. Anna was never this bold - it seemed indicative of the fact that she was sure she was correct.

"Fine. You're right."

"Ha! I _knew_ it," Anna grinned, striding toward the doorway. "August! You own me twenty bucks!"

Emma laughed to herself at the idea of her employees working together to diagnose her happiness. It wasn't as if she blamed them - she hadn't acted so blissful in quite some time. To think it had all been caused by Killian Jones - the man who she'd argued endlessly with for years - was even a surprise to her. She sighed, somewhat relieved that she didn't have to hide it any longer.

"For what it's worth," Anna said with a grin, returning to where Emma was working. "You two have always been ridiculously adorable together - even when you were at each other's throats."

_This girl needs to work on her interesting choice of words,_ Emma smiled to herself before starting to dust off the counter again.

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, brushing off Anna's comment with a blush to her cheeks. "Just - we better get back to work. Cupcakes don't bake themselves."

"You got it, boss."

* * *

**Emma: Where are you off to?**

She had been rolling out white fondant for...someone's cake order. She wasn't really sure who. Her thoughts had been filled with Killian all morning - particularly with the way he'd dropped his towel to the wood floor after showering, causing them both to be late for work _again_. He was serving to be quite the distraction frequently and naturally when she noticed her object of diversion hoping into his truck, she had to ask.

**Killian: Just off to pick up some flowers, love. I do love when you confirm my hope that you are spying.**

She laughed softly as she typed the keys. _What an idiot,_ she snickered.

**Emma: What can I say? There's quite a bit to look at.**

**Killian: Mmmm, you have no idea.**

**Emma: I'd dare say I do. What are you going to pick up?**

**Killian: Oleanders - so you better flatter me while I'm still alive.**

Emma narrowed her eyes at his reply and then, naturally, typed a quick internet search for the blossom. She zeroed in on the toxicity section quite fast, but grinned when she realized he might be trying for dramatic.

**Emma: Is your venture to procure a potentially toxic plant your ways of saying I've 'bewitched you'?**

**Killian: I'm actually making a centerpiece of sorts for some thing the mayor is hosting. But you've been doing your online research I see...I trust the internet has also told you of the flower's warning to be cautious of those around you.**

**Emma: Ah, my dangerous, mysterious boyfriend - off in the pursuit of the poisonous flower. They should make a movie about you.**

**Killian: Yes, but I don't know that I'd have time to play myself...and let's be honest that there's really no one else that would qualify for the job. But perhaps the request to keep yourself safe is merely to suggest that a certain man in your life is longing to devour you.**

**Emma: In that case, I'd call that man an arrogant florist and tell him to keep his hands free of toxins. I have use for them later.**

**Killian: Is that an offer? Being the cocky, hazardous man that I am has made me quite interested.**

**Emma: Perhaps. If you hurry, I'd say you'll be able to find out much faster.**

**Killian: I'll be back in 30 minutes.**

**Emma: I'll be over here hoping for your safe return.**

**Killian: I love you, Swan. Expect my hands at your service the moment I return.**

Emma hit the lock key on her phone, feeling her desire begin to build as she grinned with purpose. It was going to be really hard to focus on baking anything for the next half hour - and she really hoped Anna would be around to take the cake out of the oven. There was a pretty solid chance that Emma was going to be very, _very_ busy.

* * *

"Good _hell_, Killian. Hello to you too."

Emma felt her shoulders digging into the back of her office door as Killian gripped her face, his hands cupping her head behind her ears and searing his lips against hers. Normally, this was when he'd make every attempt to ravish her. She wouldn't have stopped him, but he pulled back slightly anyway.

"I had assumed you were going to make every physical endeavor to take me up on my offer," Emma laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Giving up so soon?"

"Of course not - I'm sorry, love," he grinned against her lips. "I just...missed you."

"You just saw me like two hours ago."

"That's two hours too long, Swan," he almost whined, chasing her lips as she pushed his chest teasingly.

"Mmmm, right. So what's your real purpose for coming here, Killian?"

"I'm going to refuse to negate my first admission," he answered, glaring at her comically. "But I did come to ask you to accompany me on a little trip this weekend."

She raised her eyebrows at him, wondering where he was headed and why she was just hearing of it now. He obviously had planned to take her along so she shouldn't be skeptical that he hadn't said anything. He simply smiled, obviously intrigued with the way the wheels were turning in her head.

"Where are we going?"

His eyes looked interestingly curious. What was he up to?

"New York."

The two word destination wasn't a total shock, but the excitement that lit up in Emma's eyes at the announcement seemed to satisfy him. He kissed her softly, running a tender hand through her hair.

"What's in New York?"

"Well, we can be...while I attend to a bit of work," he said hopefully. "Just a wedding...one I thought you might know of..."

"Care to elaborate?"

He looked suddenly nervous - almost like he had something to hide or a secret he definitely shouldn't be telling. She scratched the back of his head, an action he loved and one she was using to coax information out of him. He caved the same way he always did when it came to her.

"Killian Jones," she chided, digging her fingernails into his scalp. "What wedding?"

"Uh, well...Anna's sister's?"

Of course Emma knew about that wedding - she'd been commissioned to that cake since the second Elsa had gotten engaged. Anna, the planning and scheming maid-of-honor, was all too eager to take Emma's contribution to New York. She'd let Emma - who she knew often despised weddings - off the hook while still saying that she would really love for her to attend although she knew it was not likely. It was Anna's attempt at giving her boss more time to spend with her doting business neighbor turned boyfriend. Emma almost laughed at the way she'd negated to figure out that it was that same neighbor who'd be delivering the flowers.

This would be such a perfect opportunity to torment Killian - to make him think he'd scored a job that she couldn't compete with and one that she'd surely be upset about. His eyes were so worried and his body was stiff like he was waiting for her to freak out. She pondered it, but using this to taunt him seemed almost cruel and she figured she'd pass this time. Besides, there were other, more _satisfying_ ways to tease him.

"You seriously think she didn't ask me to make her cake months ago? Wow, Killian - that's just hurtful."

His expression softened and he poked at her ribs, amused at the fact that she'd chosen not to mess with him for once. He steadied himself against the door, trapping her between his arms as he so often did and moving closer to her.

"Is that a lack of contention I'm hearing, Swan? You just missed quite the chance to drag me through quite the guilty spree."

He was right - why hadn't she taken the more familiar route of toying with him? She angled her eyes so she could analyze his face from a different point of view. He wore an expression that was so entirely honest and captivated. This man, somehow, had truly fallen in love with her. That changed everything - maybe even her will to revel in teasing him. Well, at least in this _particular_ way.

"I didn't miss it," she retorted with a sweet smile. "Just taking a different approach I guess."

He cupped the sides of her face, adoration filling his gaze. There is was again - that pure look of love. She pressed her lips together as she realized she wouldn't be opposed to seeing it more often.

"Well," he sighed. "I've heard change can be quite refreshing."

"Yeah," she replied, her lips brushing his. "I think it is."

He kissed her with a renewed fervor, his body responding in a way that told her he was intrigued with her personality adjustment regarding him. He laughed, his mouth vibrating against her skin and causing her to shiver slightly.

"What?"

"Nothing," he grinned wildly, locking his eyes on hers. "I just didn't think I'd ever see the surrender of a Swan."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, moving her hips temptingly and causing him to take a deep breath. "Are you ready to go?"

"Cutting out early, are we?"

"Well I have to," she said, running her tongue gently across her teeth. "I have an offer to make good on."

He gave her a strongly aroused expression, his mouth agape at her blunt admission. After he retained his composure, he snatched her hand with a knowing smile and pulled her toward the door. Emma almost giggled - this kind of torment was suddenly becoming _much_ more entertaining than the former.

* * *

Emma woke up around one in the morning, aching in a pleasing way after her multiple round evening in Killian's bed. He was asleep soundly next to her. She loved his vulnerability in moments like this - the way his dark hair looked against the pillow, the way his breath seemed careful, the way his arm moved instinctively for her when she sat up. It was warming and comfortable like some semblance of home. She kind of liked that idea.

She never wanted to wake him from such a restful sleep - well, maybe _sometimes_ she did. However, this time, she decided to let him be and she wandered to the kitchen. Searching the nearby cupboard for a mug, Emma located his favorite blue one. It matched his eyes and she loved watching him drink coffee from it while blasting her with innuendos and seductive glances in the mornings. She smiled, pulling it down and setting in on the counter with a gentle clink. Moving to the fridge, she sorted through the shelves and quickly located what she needed. She felt her heart flutter as she found the milk - the two percent milk that he'd claimed was not as good as the one percent he'd always bought.

Oh, how they'd apparently changed each other.

She was in the middle of making hot chocolate, hoping it might make her drowsy, when she heard the pad of his bare feet moving up the hallway. She smirked as she held the mug to her lips and turned to look at him. His hair was an adorable type of mess and he rubbed his eyes childishly before they found her. He gave her that sweet, sweet smile.

"You didn't think I'd notice your absence, love?"

"I didn't realize how accustomed you were to my sleeping presence," she retorted as he moved closer. "It's flattering that you're such a fan of my body heat."

"I don't know why you'd say that, Swan," he said, slipping her arms around her waist before kissing her gently. "I'm a fan of every part of you."

Little moments like this made her wonder why she ever doubted him in the past. It was hard to see why she ever hated him when he was like this - all sweet and protective and...Killian. She was now considering her alternate method of curing her inability to sleep. He was becoming a much more appealing choice than hot chocolate.

"Hold that thought," he said, strangely exhibiting his ability to read her mind. "This calls for music."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows, trying to chase him with her eyes as he rounded the corner. It didn't take long for some unnamed jazz melody to travel through the air and he returned to the kitchen with a silly smile.

"Saxophones? At this hour?"

"Yes," he grinned, kissing her chastely. "Dance with me."

"Dance with you?"

"That's what I said," he confirmed, pulling her to the open space between the wraparound counters. "We better practice."

"What exactly are we practicing for?"

"Well, Swan," he began, pulling her close and dropping his hand to her hip. "We've worked multiple social events that have had decent music - more or less. Yet you've still never allowed me to dance with you."

"I see," Emma replied, moving her hands to join around his neck. "So you're planning on changing that at this wedding in New York?"

"Absolutely," he nodded confidently. "Am I sensing an objection?"

This was so ridiculous - the two of them twirling around the kitchen like this was some sappy romantic scene of a movie. She surprisingly loved it more than she ever imagined a skeptic like herself could.

"No argument here actually," she conceded. "But a request perhaps?"

"Anything for you, love."

"I am not opposed to weathering the rest of this song," she said, dropping her forehead against his. "But after this, I'd like to see if a _different_ type of dance might lull me back to sleep."

"Mmmm," he laughed, tightening his hold on her lower body. "I like it when you're compliant, Swan."

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, kissing him quickly. "Don't get used to it."

"As you wish," he replied, swiftly lifting her over his shoulder as she laughed in surprise. "I suppose practice makes perfect - or so I've heard."

When the first sight of sunlight peeked in through the window and Killian's arms continued to hold her in a warm embrace, Emma decided that dancing was really not so terrible at all.


	20. Lily

**Well...here we are! I've put off writing this one mostly because I wanted to make sure it was done well, but also because I hate to end it haha. I hope it wraps things up nicely :] thank you all so, so much for reading. I'm so flattered by the comments and support I've received with this story. It's truly motivation to keep writing! So without further rambling, all rights/characters belong to OUAT. I own nothing!**

***Also, check the notes at the bottom for a little extra...information.**

* * *

_She slammed the crate of white, unknown flowers onto the wooden table of his backroom. Her face was irritated, but she was so completely, one hundred percent beyond irritated. Stupid, intolerable, freaking Killian Jones. He sat on the wood stool nearby, floral wire in his hands and a devilish smirk on his face. He found such amusement in her anger and it was starting to piss her off on a whole new level._

_"Swan," he raised his eyebrows, focusing intently on the stem in his hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your appearance?"_

_"Cut the sweet talk, Jones," she glared. "That's obviously not why I'm here at all."_

_"Hmmm," he said, rising from the stool and moving to lean his back against the work surface. "So why are you here?"_

_That ignorant ass. He knew exactly why she was there - the look of success on his face told her that._

_"Tell your stupid delivery service to stop dropping off your orders at my bakery when you're not around to sign for them."_

_He'd been doing it for months now. She'd thought it was a one time thing - Emma had signed for something once when he had run into town to get some planters only by the coincidence that she was taking out the recycling when the delivery truck pulled up. She'd left him a note with the blossoms telling him 'you're welcome' and thought nothing else of it._

_That was until it became a nearly triweekly event. They'd had this conversation what felt like dozens of times before and for some reason, this annoying man just couldn't get it through his head that she wasn't his employee._

_"If you'd only allow me to thank you for your consideration before you blaze in with a vendetta, I'd be happy to do so, darling."_

_"Killian, I am not your freaking personal assistant! I don't sit around all day, waiting for ways to help you or make your life easier," she yelled animatedly. "I have plenty to do without adding unnecessary interactions with you to my growing to-do list!"_

_"Well, Swan," he sighed, studying his fingernails. "If I didn't involve you in my daily work, we would never get to have such pleasant moments as this one. I assure you that I look forward to our frequent loud discussions as much as you do."_

_"The only thing I look forward to is the day you start minding your own freaking business so I can run mine."_

_"Oh, love," he taunted, his lips curling into a seductive smile. "I can assure that what you're referring to will quite likely never happen."_

_She narrowed her eyes hard at him, trying to fight any semblance of blush that might be taking over her cheeks. He'd moved closer to her during her rant. Uncomfortably close, she realized. His gaze was heated and he ran his top teeth across his bottom lip, causing it to redden and swell slightly. God, she wanted to kiss him. Wait - what the hell?! She had to get out of there._

_"Just...handle it, Killian," she snapped in a less than convincing way. "I'm not having this conversation with you again."_

_"Sounds like a either a threat or a challenge, love."_

_"Could be," she replied, placing a defiant hand on her hip. "Good thing I'm not sticking around for you to find out."_

_"Well then, Swan," he said all too sweetly, leaning forward to challenge her with unfairly blue eyes. "It's fortunate for me that I know where to find you."_

_Killian Jones was officially the aggravating man in the world. She tried to maintain that knowledge as she stomped out the back door, very much aware of the way his eyes followed her. What the hell was wrong with her? The smile growing on her face didn't help her efforts at convincing herself. She shook her head the whole walk back across the street. Damn you, Killian Jones._

* * *

"_Killian_ \- yes," Emma's voice strained over the sound of the shower - the one that was very steamy for multiple reasons.

"I have no clue how we managed to miss this surface," Killian smiled against her shoulder, his body wet and pressing hard against hers as she lay flush against the shower wall. "_Quite_ ignorant of us, love."

It was just like her wonderful, business owning _bastard_ of a boyfriend to book them a room at the same hotel they'd stayed at last time they wandered New York City together. He'd pulled into the parking garage the night before with nothing short of a seductive grin on his lips as he first gathered their luggage and then her in his arms. Killian pressed her gently up against the driver's side door, kissing her with promise of what was to come. He, of course, delivered every ounce of what she was expecting. _Several_ times. Killian Jones didn't seem to make empty promises.

"Mmmm, yes. We better...oh - _god_...be more thorough this...time."

Killian let out a growl type sound at her suggestion, grinding against her as he bit softly at her neck. Emma melted into him familiarly and she was soon victimized by his hot, needy tongue. The way his mouth fused and warmed every inch of her skin was never anything short of amazing. She moaned gratefully in his ear, a few profane phrases slipping past her lips.

"You are a _vision_, love-" he said breathily, lifting and grinding her into the tile wall. "And if I'm not mistaken, you like this particular location as much as _I_ do..."

Emma gasped a pleasured sound, her lips pressed firming together as she dropped her head back. He angled his hips to thrust into her, moving swiftly and smoothly until she sunk down onto him completely. They smiled in unison, Emma's gaze meeting his hooded eyes.

He dropped his head to her shoulder, his mouth working its way across her skin until it reached her collarbone. He began a sensual method of teeth and tongue as he ravished her neck. She gasped an aching sound, one he matched as she tried to move against him.

"Killian, _please_..."

He sunk his teeth slightly harder into her skin, smoothing over the indentation with his tongue as he pushed his hips harder up into her. Emma gripped the back of his neck, digging her nails into the back of his scalp as he set a fast pace. Their lips met forcefully as Killian grunted softly into her mouth.

"_Emma_, god..."

"Killian," she said in a moaning tone. "Don't stop. _Please_ don't stop."

"Never," he growled, gripping the backs of her thighs. "_God_, you feel so good."

He thrusted harder, the shower tiles scraping cold against her back. It took only a few calculated snaps of his hips before she was screaming into his mouth and falling over the edge. He followed her, pinning his lower half against her as pleasure pulsed between her legs. He continued to thrust gently, assisting them both in coming down from a splendid high. Killian pulled back, smirking at her as water rolled down his face.

"_You_ are going to be the death of me, Emma Swan."

"Likewise," she huffed, smiling as she searched for breath. "So much for conserving water."

"Well, perhaps it's the conscious thought that counts," he shrugged adorably, lowering her slowly back to the shower floor. "But sometimes it's necessary to make sacrifices for such satisfying endeavors or in other words, I regret _nothing_, love."

"You are such a sweet talker," she grinned, reaching up to tilt his head back. "You _always_ have been."

"Hmmm, perhaps you just find it a little less unbearable now?"

Emma smirked sweetly as she began to wash his dark, healthy head of hair. He closed his eyes at the feel of her caressing his scalp as he ran relaxing fingers up and down her wet back. She lathered his head as she watched the way he melted into her touch. She wasn't sure when Killian Jones became so tightly wrapped around her finger.

"So, love," he said, rinsing his hair quickly as he began to return the gesture. "Can I tempt you into being my apprentice today?"

"Last I checked, you have a hardworking niece for that," Emma replied from under her soapy hair.

"I do," he confirmed, grazing his hips against hers. "But I have this unshakable feeling that she's going to be busy most of the day."

"That's interesting - didn't you tell her you needed help? Isn't that why she called you from the lobby about an hour ago for her 'assignment'?"

He kissed her shoulder, tangling his fingers in her hair while helping her with the rinsing process. His blue eyes looked innocent as he tickled her skin, first up her arm and then down her torso.

"Killian," she breathed, trying not to be distracted by his decisive fingers. "Please tell me you aren't paying Ruby to _not_ work today?"

"Merely a _business_ expense, love," he said softly, dragging his lips to her neck. "But my effort at being a selfless boss is going to lead me to needing your best floral assisting skills at this wedding."

"You are the _worst_," she gasped as she bit her lips and closed her eyes. "Mmmm, yes - the _absolute_ worst."

"I think I'm okay with being the worst," he grinned, his hands at her lower back. "But perhaps a few more moments in _here_ will allow me to convince you otherwise."

His eyes darkened with that familiar intent to smolder. Emma smiled softly, caressing her lower lip with her teeth. She braced herself for the likely activity of swimming - both under the pounding water and in the passion of Killian Jones.

* * *

"So what's this all about?"

Killian tugged her hand gently, giving her his best signature smirk as they strolled up the boardwalk. They'd navigated a somewhat lengthy, handsy walk to the water and Emma had been so distracted by Killian's teasing touch that she had neglected to pay attention to where they'd ended up.

"This way, love."

Emma mused at the mess of boats around them, bobbing in the water with sails in the wind. Oh, _dammit_.

"Killian..."

"Ready to work on that fear, love?"

She froze for a moment, eyeing the sporadic waves of the New York harbor before she found his gaze. It was hopeful and adorable, but with a protective element she didn't see very often. She sighed heavily, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Hey," he said softly, moving closer to set his hand against her jaw. "I'm not trying to push you. I just...I've always loved it down here - so I wanted you to see. I'm just _now_ realizing that this may have been a terrible plan. But I'm _here_, Emma. I won't make you-"

"Okay."

She said it so suddenly that she surprised even herself. His furrowed his eyebrows, studying her curiously. A smile began to turn up the corners of his mouth.

"Okay?"

"Ummm...yeah," she said, looking around and then back to him. "Okay."

"Well _okay_," he grinned, lacing his fingers through hers. "Let's go, love."

They found themselves on the edge of the dock where Emma stared up at the strong, white sails of the boat that was supposed to cure her phobia. She shifted back and forth, watching Killian hop onto the deck sailor style. He fiddled with a few ropes and ties, completely focused on what appeared to be a familiar pursuit. His hands were skilled in a way that Emma could certainly appreciate.

"Is this your boat?"

"No," he laughed, peering up at her. "A friend's. He's been generous enough to lend it to me. It's all about who you know, love."

"Hmmm, I see," she replied, suddenly locating the boat's name on the side. "So...the _'Water Lily'_ huh? Cute."

"His daughter's name," he said with a smirk. "He bought it just after she was born. I suppose it's clever."

He looked back at her with reassurance, holding out a tentative yet vigilant hand to her.

"_Hey_. I've got you, Swan," Killian smiled, raising his eyebrows sweetly at her. "You'll be safe."

Who would have _ever_ thought Killian Jones would be safe? She took an unsteady breath and moved forward cautiously. His hand was comforting as he pulled her into his arms, allowing her to steady her feet on the surface below her.

"There you go," he smiled, kissing her happily. "Easy enough, right?"

"I guess," she replied, looking over the side at the water. "We'll see."

As the boat moved carefully out onto the water, Emma found that perhaps her fear had been quite exaggerated. It was beautiful and relaxing. It was serene - a type of calm Emma didn't know much of. But most of all - it was _Killian_. It was the way he held such a satisfied and admirable expression as they moved through the harbor. He seemed to have a true, decisive love for the open water. As she watched him in his true element, she found she had quite a true and decisive love for _him_.

"I love you, Swan," he said in all but a whisper, once the boat slowed and he could sit behind her to cage her in his embrace.

"I love you too," she replied, snuggling against him. "So much."

It dawned on Emma that Killian definitely wasn't going to let her drown - well, at least not in the water.

* * *

The thin twine was tricky. It was plenty long and not about to break, but Emma's fingers stumbled over twisting a knot. The flowers were amazing - she had always been extremely fond of a white lily. She reminded herself to commend Elsa's choice of blossoms when she shared her congratulations. She also made a mental note to interrogate her boyfriend on his flowery intellect later. _God_, that man - how had he fooled her into love with a few lines about foliage? She smirked at her inability to be upset by that fact as she internally scolded herself about her inability to produce a stupid knot.

Killian was just across the room, talking to one of the event planners about placement of the centerpieces. They'd locked eyes several times, his bright blues taunting her sweetly as he continued his conversation. Perhaps it was the view that was causing her to fail at such a _ridiculously_ easy task.

He'd elected to wear a suit since they'd be staying as guests and not just merchants. It was dark gray, accompanied by a black tie and oxford shoes. It was handsome. It was very classy. It was making it _extremely_ difficult to focus. Emma tried to shake the idea of the multiple other uses for that tie as she picked at the twine.

"_Easy_, love," he said, moving behind her and grazing her fingers. "It's only a knot. Like this - two sides, cross, tuck under, pull tight."

"Thank you for the condescending directions," she teased, allowing him to kiss her cheek. "I'm not _incompetent_, Jones - just...having trouble paying attention."

"I see," he reveled, pressing his hips against her as he coaxed her to turn around. "I hope that's not by my doing."

"It's _always_ by your doing, Jones," she glared, leaning up to kiss him. "That suit isn't playing fair."

"Ah, so _that's_ it," he grinned, caressing her cheek. "Don't worry, Swan - I'll allow you to help me out of it as soon as possible. Perhaps right after I assist you with the removal of that _damn_ dress."

Emma laughed as she scrunched her nose adorably at him. It was strapless and midnight blue, the skirt hitting just above the knee in a flowing twirl of fabric. She'd added a string of pearls and simple beaded sandals. It made her grin wildly to realize that he'd been just as visually wrapped up in her as she was with him. She stepped on his foot playfully as he rolled his eyes, causing her to drag her toes up and back down his pant leg.

"_Behave_, Swan," he warned, biting his lip. "We're going for professional here."

"I'm _always_ a professional, Jones. But you were right about business being a buzzkill."

"I'll make it up to you later," he winked with a promising smile. "You have my word."

"Well, expect me to hold you to it. I love the lilies, by the way."

"Not exactly a surprise," he admitted, tilting his head from side to side. "They tend be popular at weddings."

"Killian," she nearly whined, raising an inquiring eyebrow. "In _all_ your cockiness, are you going to make me ask?"

He sighed a simple laugh, taking her face in his hands gently as he looked at her wistfully. He still managed to make her heart skip several beats with that look even though she'd seen it thousands of times by now.

"Lilies are pure," he began, punctuating each defining characteristic with a soft kiss. "Delicate. Sweet. _Happiness_. The symbol saying 'you make me complete'. Quite the choice in florals, right?"

"Hmmm, yes," she smiled gratuitously. "I'd say it works perfectly."

She hummed at him, straightening his tie as she moved in for a last kiss. He hooded his eyes, letting her lips linger against his as he sighed happily.

"What's that face for?"

"Nothing. It's just - I'm...I'm happy," Killian beamed subtly, running his fingertips down her arm. "I do hope that's allowed."

"Absolutely," she nodded, shivering at his ministration.

"I love you, Emma Swan," he told her, eyes earnest and adoring.

"And I love you," she countered. "Now let's get to work so you can collect on that dance you owe me."

"Well that certainly _is_ incentive to get the job done," he conceded, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Back to business, Swan."

Emma laughed as he wandered away, watching as he stopped at one of the end arrangements. He pulled on the stem, taking it from the vase to place it in a more flattering place in the arrangement. Glancing back with caring eyes as he completed the task, he mouthed 'I love you' with a beyond brilliant signature Killian Jones grin.

She laughed quietly, rolling her eyes flirtatiously. _God_, she loved that man. In all the years Emma had worked, business had certainly never been _this_ good.

* * *

**So I am going to be writing two somewhat explicit epilogue "outtake" type of chapters to go with this fic - one taking place in the bakery and one taking place in the flower shop. I can't make any promises as to when they'll be up since I plan on making them fairly detailed ;] and I can only do that if I'm in a certain mode of writing haha. BUT they will exist at some point - so keep an eye out if you're interested in reading such a thing!**


	21. Outtake 1: Vanilla Frosting

**Okay here we are! Part one - finally haha. Thank you for being so patient. Like I said before, these little outtakes are going to be quite smutty...so keep that in mind. I mean seriously - it's probably some of the more filthy stuff I've written haha. I've had some pretty good suggestions from people on what they'd be interested in seeing so I will definitely take some of that into account. If you have ideas, I'd love to hear them and I will implement things where I can. No promises on what I can do for sure though! :] With that being said, enjoy and I will be posting more soon. I own nothing - all characters/rights belong to OUAT.**

* * *

"Killian."

Yes, Emma was working late per usual. It was a pretty typical endeavor and it was actually_ very_ productive - well, at least until he showed up all floral sex god and tempting kisses. He'd walked through the back door of the bakery in his dark fitted jeans and typical soft flannel shirt - one she'd borrowed on a few occasions. His lips turned up into a suspicious smile when he moved slowly into her space. Those _damn _lips knew exactly how to distract her, insanely adept in finding their way around Emma's body all too well.

"You are so..._mmm_, god..."

"Hmmm, are you referring to me as a deity, love? I must say that's a _first_ in the way of compliments."

His mouth was not playing fair as it landed hot on her neck first and then up her jawline at a deliciously slow pace. He basked in the soft moan that escaped her lips, continuing his slow kissing pattern. She wasn't daft. Emma knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

He was _distracting_ her - and his lack of verbal response to her weak and equally worthless dispute told her that he was also _now_ ignoring her. God, Killian Jones could be such an infuriating man, but at this moment, he was her infuriating and insatiable _boyfriend_.

"Killian...dammit. Stop."

"_Mmmm_. Stop what, love?"

Emma had an important wedding reception that weekend, an evening event that required the services of her bakery in the form of about a hundred and sixty cupcakes. She'd slaved away all day, stirring and sculpting sugar well into the night. Killian stopped by after closing his shop in an orderly fashion and had taken to the act of propositioning her for dinner among _other_ things, that sexy glint in his deep blue eyes as he slid up behind her with a grin against her neck. She'd offset his game momentarily, elbowing him as she requested that he find her some almond extract. _That_ hadn't been her best choice - she realized that as she watched him studiously examine the labels of various flavoring bottles.

Emma had spent enough nights watching him play florist to know that the focused, contemplative Killian was just as dangerous and perhaps even sexy as any other version. There was just something smoldering about his intense, purposeful eyes and the way he stuck his tongue into his cheek while deep in thought. She bit her lip hard, trying to deny how much she wanted the feel of his chiseled chest against her back as she set back to the work she _really_ needed to finish.

He really shouldn't be there - it was so bad for business. However, such a thought seemed to drift from her mind as she felt him graze his hands along her hips with calculated purpose. This man had a certain fondness for baked goods, but an even more specific liking for the woman doing the baking. He'd made that clear many times and this instance was no different as he set the bottle on the counter in front of her and pulled her hair back to resume the earlier activities of his lips with his wandering hands in tow.

"Killan," she groaned gratuitously, tilting her head involuntarily and fighting an urge to moan. "When I said you could _stay_, I meant you could _help_. I didn't give you free reign to..._mmm_, distract me. Business to attend to, Mr. J...ahh, _god_...Jones. "

"Hmmm, helping, huh? Isn't that _precisely_ what I'm doing?"

His smooth hands trailed aimlessly and sinfully down her sides, brushing against her back as he set his teeth softly against her ear. She tried to pay attention to the consistency of the frosting she'd somehow managed to conjure up, but soon found herself much more interested in his scorching touch and what exactly he planned to do with it.

_Dammit_, she couldn't afford such thoughts. She had work to do.

"Killian, you are going to destroy this recipe."

"A necessary casualty, love. The Emma _I_ know isn't much for recipes anyway," he teased, pressing up against her. "But if I'm doomed to 'helping', I must insist we taste test it. Purely for accuracy reasons of course."

"Killian, don't you dare..._oh_..."

He slid his hands down the backs of her thighs, gripping them softly as he pushed her up on top of the metal countertop. She shivered, chills running down her spine as he began his routine of lips, tongue, and teeth. Emma had no idea how teeth could be so talented, but she was beyond grateful that they were as they nibbled and dragged along her collarbone.

"_Now_, you see, Swan," he began very matter-of-factly, reaching a skilled finger toward the edge of the bowl of frosting. "A rather talented woman once told me that a cupcake is only as good as its frosting."

"Ah - is that right?"

"Mmm," he hummed, far too entertained with the way she was melting into his touch. "I for one have always found that _thicker_ is better."

_Innuendo dropping bastard_, Emma thought with a smirk - one that quickly vanished as he moved his hands back to her legs, parting them so he had a place to stand. She immediately found herself agreeing with his opinion on thick things as she felt him harden against her thigh.

Emma didn't even get a chance to retort before he took the frosting covered finger and ran it down the side of her neck. She let out a shaky sigh as his mouth descended on her skin, tracing the path of sugar on her skin. His tongue throbbed against her neck, a sensation that caused a shiver to run up her spine.

"Killian..."

He raised his gaze, smiling cleverly as he leaned in to kiss her at a torturously slow pace. Emma chased his lips with nipping teeth and his tongue moved gratuitously across hers. When he pulled back, his eyes were on fire with a blue smolder that kept her from even considering looking away. With a direct gaze, he began to drag his slightly sticky finger over her lower lip. Then using his thumb, he tugged it softly, studying her mouth before descending forward to remove the small bit of frosting he'd left there.

"Not bad in terms of sugar but _you_ are far too sweet, love," he breathed, dropping his forehead against hers as he continued to let his hands roam freely. "I must say I'm a fan of this flavor."

"It's no secret how you feel about vanilla frosting, Killian," Emma replied, bit her lip as she prepared for more. "But now that I have your _approval_, I should...mmmm...probably get back to work."

"Oh no, love," he seduced, toying with the hem of her t-shirt. "I'm not nearly done with you."

He lifted her shirt over her head at record speed, tossing it to the floor before his lips met hers again. His hands were wonderfully rough and direct, gripping the base of her neck gently as his tongue coaxed her mouth open. Emma gathered the collar of his flannel in her hand, tugging him closer before finally reaching for the buttons to pull it off his torso.

God, she wanted him. Every _single_ bit of him. Granted, she always did, but this time seemed different. It was an almost primal need - one where she would allow him to push hard on the few boundaries she still _barely_ had. Yes, that list had been slowly dwindling over the course of many nights in locations _other_ than their beds. She tried not to picture that list as she held back a moan - splayed out on her office desk, against the glass of the greenhouse, the bed of his new truck with wooden crates digging into her back...

Emma's mind mused at the creativity of Killian Jones and she found herself wanting to further explore his adventurous ideas. They'd definitely had a few playful interactions with frosting, but this time, it seemed as if he had some very interesting intentions. His breath was jagged and warm on her skin as she pulled him close by gripping his shirt.

"Emma," he groaned, fusing his lips to her neck. "God, I need to taste you - _all_ of you."

"_Yes_," she breathed, throwing her head back as he bit the skin along her collarbone. "Please, Killian."

He gave her that wicked smirk, the one that sent a rush of heat down her body. Leaning in to kiss her, his hand reached for the bowl of frosting. He began to drag it toward the edge of the counter, a soft noise that earned Emma's attention.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to sidetrack me even _further_ from my work?"

"Oh, on the contrary, love," he grinned, running his index finger along the edge of the bowl to gather enough frosting for whatever he had planned. "The last thing I want is for you to neglect the task at hand. Perhaps I'm merely offering my personal _opinion_ on your work."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Mmmm, precisely," he nodded softly, moving his finger to her chest and dragging it down the expanse of skin between her breasts. "For example, there's several surfaces I'm interested in using the test the _consistency_ of this frosting...specifically _this_ one."

His eyes examined the area he'd just covered, analyzing the crystals of sugar on her skin before moving his tongue to where his gaze had been fixed. Emma's breath hitched as his mouth began to drag down the trail his finger had followed, his teeth sporadically biting at her flesh. She moaned and bit her lip at the contact, flinching when he suddenly reached behind to unclasp her bra. His eyes darkened when he pulled back and the garment fell to the floor.

"It makes me wonder about the rest of your skin, darling."

"Hmmm," Emma hummed, meeting his wild eyes. "And what exactly _are_ you curious about?"

"Just as to whether or not the rest of your bare body would be as accommodating as the spot right _here_."

He moved his tongue back to the spot between her breasts, laving the sugary area as his thumb dipped into the bowl. Emma's mouth was parted in pleasure and she pressed her teeth into her lower lip when he leaned back to examine the frosting covering the pad of his thumb. He smirked something almost devilish as he smoothed the frosting across one nipple and then the other. Emma flinched, reacting pleasantly to his firm and erotic touch as he tweaked the erect skin. With a heated glare, he lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to retract the sweetness he had spread across her nipples.

"Killian - oh, _god_," she moaned, clutching the back of his head with her fingers. "_Yes_. More."

He continued his calculated strokes with his skilled tongue, moving back and forth at a tortuous pace. He closed his lips around each nipple and sucked gently as he tugged her closer with a firm grip on the back of her thighs. Emma was writhing by the time his deft fingers flipped open the button of her jeans. He moved his lips back up to kiss her, the faint taste of frosting on his tongue as he pulled the fabric down each of her legs. Emma pulled him closer, digging her nails gently into his chest as she bit his lower lip.

"I'm glad to see I have your full and _prompt_ attention, love."

"Well, that's what you wanted right?"

"Yes," he began, moving his hands to the hem of her underwear and slowly dragging them down. "Almost as much as I want _this_."

"Are you..._oh_..."

He'd lowered himself to his knees, gazing up at her from under hooded eyes. His expression was smoldering as he began to slide his finger from one hipbone to the other. A trail of frosting was left in wake of his hand and Emma wondered when the hell _that_ had happened - she hadn't even seen him reach into the bowl again. Her curiosity quickly dissolved as his breath burned her bare skin, teasing her into a needy mess the instant his tongue grazed her sugar coated flesh.

"Killian, are you..."

She didn't even get time to ask before he swept the frosting across her very naked core, rubbing gently as he moved upward. He pulled the finger to his mouth, licking what was left before lowering his head to the space between her thighs. He peered up at her with those honest blue eyes once more before running his fingertips under her thighs and tantalizingly licking at the sweet mess he'd so skillfully created - one that proved he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Oh, _god_ that feels _so_ good."

He hummed softly, continuing his tongue's firm strokes as he gripped and pulled her closer. His mouth pressed firmly right where she needed him as she felt his breath grown hotter and he began to move faster. She moaned an uncontrolled sound when he finally slipped his tongue inside of her, digging his short fingernails into her skin as she writhed.

"Oh, _yes_. Yes..."

"_God_, Emma," he breathed, running his tongue up and down her heated flesh. "You taste so _sweet_."

A wrecked sound forced its way from Emma's throat as she began to move her hips back and forth, thrusting gently against his mouth. His tongue accepted her response gladly as he growled softly into her, nipping softly and allowing his teeth to graze a most sensitive area. He licked and kissed with an increasing pace and Emma felt her control dwindling. Damn, Killian Jones had the most wonderfully _wicked_ mouth.

"_Killian_."

His name fell from her lips as a promise, a warning, and perhaps even a prayer. She knew how much he loved hearing it - how his efforts would magnify when he felt her growing close. He did as she predicted and slipped two fingers gently into her, rubbing fiercely in the best way as her breathing became shaky and stuttering.

"_Oh_, god - I'm going to _come_."

"Yes, Emma," he groaned through his tongue's motion. "_Come_. Come for me."

She quickly proved _just_ how much better she'd gotten at listening to him as she thrust rhythmically against his face and crashed into her release, a loud moan piercing the air as she came hard. His fingers continued to move as she pulsed around them and his lips kissed the wetness between her legs several times before he pulled back. When he finally looked back up at her, he waited until her eyes opened and melted into his dark blue ones before he removed his fingers. She dug her fingernails playfully into his scalp and shook her head at his mischievous grin.

"Do you always have to look so _damn_ pleased with yourself?"

"Well _you_ seem rather pleased with me," he taunted, hitching her leg around his waist as he puller her toward him. "I figured it was only polite to mirror your reaction."

She groaned with feigned annoyance and yanked his mouth to hers, tugging him by the collar of his shirt. He leaned into the kiss in such a Killian sort of way, a method in which his lips fused helplessly to hers and he supported every tilt of her head with two strong hands. The mix of flavors gathering on Emma's tongue were _very_ sweet indeed.

"Killian?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you," she breathed against his lips. "But _you_ are scrubbing these bowls - this frosting is going to be a pain in the ass to clean up."

"I suppose it will give me something to do while I keep you company for the next few hours," he smirked, leaning up to kiss her forehead. "It looks like my constructive criticism might cause you to be working a _little_ later than anticipated."

"Yeah, yeah - _big_ surprise. But fortunately for me, it's going to be '_us_' working late and not just 'me'."

He laughed softly, nodding and tracing her jaw with his fingers as he pressed his lips to hers once more. It was such a sweet, sincere motion - one she never anticipated this man would ever be capable of. God, she was glad to be wrong.

"Well, love," he sighed happily. "Looks like we're in it for the long haul tonight. We best get to it. I mean...unless you've got _additional_ work for me to review?"

He was and probably always would be insatiable. She couldn't find it in herself to mind as she watched his lustful expression. Emma bit her lip to hide the smile that often covered her face in such instances. He was so close - caging her flush against the countertop as he always did. It was tempting. It was _excruciatingly_ tempting.

"Well, your valuable input is certainly appealing," she teased, dangling the idea between them. "But if you'd care to learn your way around a frosting piping bag, you could help me finish these cupcakes faster - and there might even be _some_ frosting left over."

"I take it that you have plans in store for that?"

Emma pursed her lips and nodded as her eyes flickered downward. For some reason, the idea of covering him the way he'd just done with her was doing all sorts of things to her. He definitely felt the effect as well - it was obvious in the way he swallowed hard and used his teeth to toy with his bottom lip.

"So," she began, carefully dipping her index finger into the frosting bowl before raising it to just out of his reach. "Are you ready to be a compliant apprentice?"

"Mmmm," he growled softly, diving forward to take her stray finger into his mouth. "I suppose so - and if you pay attention, you might even learn a lesson or two about the desirable state of being...so _sweetly_ submissive."

"Get a spatula, Jones," she rolled her eyes, nudging him with her knee when he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "For the _frosting_."

"As you wish, darling."

Emma watched the simple saunter of the man she once despised as he sorted through her various baking utensils. A sense of dark blue desire landed in his gaze when he came across one he thought might serve his - or perhaps _another_ purpose. Emma took a shaky breath, trying to remember just how many cupcakes still needed attending too. Dammit - it was going to be a _long_ night.


	22. Outtake 2: Calla Lily

**Oh...this. Well, this is ridiculous haha. Perhaps a little more humorous than hot, but oh well. Enjoy anyway :] all rights/characters belong to OUAT. If they were mine, we would be long past this point...**

* * *

_Damn_ this man. Emma tried desperately to pay attention to the movements of her blade and the way it cut through the green of the imported white calla lilies. Killian sat on the opposite side of the work bench with those focused eyes fixed on arranging the curved stems appropriately in the glass vases. His fingers moved gracefully, sliding along the rim of each container in a way she tried to ignore. He peered up at her, a smirk landing on his lips. Yeah, that bastard knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

Anything she could do to sway him away from the rather interesting path they were headed for would be futile - her excuses tended to be rather futile when it came to his charming, persuasive words. Her attempts to brush off his suggestive looks and keep working were getting weaker by the second. Repeating the phrase 'hazardous work area' in her mind over and over was sure as hell _not_ having the desired effect of blocking him out. Terrible, sexy, _stupid_ Killian Jones.

Emma never ceased to be amazed by the unique situations that came with dating the man she'd once detested. She never imagined a time she'd be standing half undressed in the middle of a greenhouse during a torrential spring downpour, covered slightly with wet soil while being pressed gently against the glass wall. She'd also never contemplated the instance of laughing over broken glass vases they'd knocked off the storage shelves in the back of the floral shop when he tormented her with his tongue, allowing his hot breath to dance across every inch of her bare skin. No, those were things her mind _never_ would have conjured up on its own - but count on the arrogantly persuasive florist across the street to make sure those things happened. Perhaps more than once...okay, _definitely_ more than once.

Today was nothing of this scandalous sort - well, at least not _yet_. Emma had learned to never underestimate his ability to turn the most innocent of circumstances into a heated scene, one where they were usually missing several articles of clothing. She'd taken to just going with it over the past few months. That man had a way with words and a talent with using them to get _exactly_ what he wanted and sometimes more. Today, however, she was determined. He had work to do and she'd committed to helping him. After all, floral centerpieces for some ridiculous city banquet would not create themselves.

The fact that he'd chosen to wear those _damn_ work gloves wasn't helping much. There was something about those that made him look rather masculine and knowledgeable - as if he needed any more of those particular qualities. Emma had been coaxed into wearing a pair as well when he claimed there was a mild toxicity to the flower, a fact her brief and early morning research had highlighted as well. She had to wonder if the slight danger pertained more to the plant or the man. _That_ answer was pretty easily ascertained.

There wasn't a chance in _hell_ that she'd mention this to him. Killian didn't need any more fuel for this very slow burning fire. Instead, Emma tried to ignore his subtle advances and navigate using the far too big work gloves - both of which were making her delegated job difficult.

"Hey - _easy_ with the knife there, love," Killian chided, winking flirtatiously. "We need angled cuts. Preferably about forty five degrees."

"Picky, _picky_," Emma taunted in return. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you don't trust my _dexterity_."

His eyes widened and that expressive eyebrow arched at her comment. She knew her words would ignite that sort of slow burning response. Being in a relationship with this confidently seductive man had taught her the power of a well placed innuendo. Dammit - _no_. She _had_ to stop. They needed to get these flowers put together.

"It's not _that_ at all, love," he assured her, his tone low and raspy as he moved behind her. "I am fully confident in your expertise. I just wanted to make sure you understood my directions. I'd be happy to _demonstrate_ if you need it, Swan."

She knew exactly where that damn line could lead - and she also knew she shouldn't allow such a path. Yet as his eyes zeroed in on her with that darkening, bold blue, she found herself forgetting how to say no. She shrugged nonchalantly instead, almost all too aware that such a reaction would be met with a challenging response from the man. Damn him and his _stupid_, irresistible, smoldering gaze.

"Here, love," Killian said, sliding behind her and caging her with his arms as he took the tool to slice through the flower. "Like _this_ \- careful and consistent. Got it?"

She shivered a bit, a smile sneaking across her face as she felt his arms on each side of her. He did that quite often - that caging her in his embrace in a most intentional way. It never failed to put opportune thoughts into her mind - ones that were better let for a time when sharp objects weren't involved.

"I don't know," she replied without thinking, pressing her back into his torso. "Maybe you better show me _one_ more time."

God, what the _hell_ was wrong with her? This was _not_ what she was supposed to be doing.

"Okay," he smirked, pushing back firmly. "Just take the blade, angle it _just_ slightly to the right and _slice_."

Her eyes locked on the way his skilled fingertips assisted in the task. His breath hitched just behind her ear and she felt a subtle heat spread across the back of her neck. Yeah, she never stood a chance. Not for a_ single_ minute.

"Good thing I found a route to keep these arrangements within appropriate price range," he grinned. "Rather _crafty_ if I say so myself."

Yes, her clever boyfriend had found a way to save the mayor's event budget by implementing a few silk flowers into the arrangements. He'd claimed it was a safer and somewhat cheaper method to filling the vases, setting them aside for the final touches to their floral creations. Emma, of course, wasted no time in teasing him about his sneaky frugality.

"It's not like most people will know the difference, Swan," he'd defended, digging his fingers into her ribs teasingly. "Plus, I clarified my choice with our rather prickly city secretary - and we both know that I do _nothing_ less than keeping my promises."

"You know, Swan," he continued, keeping his stance just behind her as he swirled the stem around his fingers. "I don't believe I've educated you on the merit of this particular plant."

"Well, you know how I love a good botany lesson," she retorted, trying to keep her palms anchored on the surface of the work bench. "Care to share your knowledge?"

"The calla lily comes from a greek term for 'beauty'," he explained, pressing his lips gently to the side of neck. "Yet the meaning is rather dependent on color. For instance, yellow is gratitude. Purple is _passion_. Pink is admiration or the utmost sort of _appreciation_."

Emma closed her eyes involuntarily, biting her lip as she tried to hold back an impending moan. She'd never figure out how this man could get to her _so_ easily, but for some reason in this moment, she didn't give a _damn_.

"But white-" he carried on, biting gently at the curve of her ear. "-denotes purity and _innocence_. That seems a _bit_ out of place in this particular instance though, doesn't it?"

"Mmmm _hmmm_," Emma answered, tilting her head in accommodation. "Sounds like...quite the variety."

He laughed softly, placing a sultry kiss at the base of her neck. His fingers reached up to slide the thin strap of her sundress down her shoulder as he laid his lips against the revealed skin. Emma felt her body begin to tingle as she succumbed to his actions, digging her fingernails into the wood surface of her work space. Killian picked up a single calla lily from the table and held it petal side down to drag it down her arm, laughing successfully when she shuddered. It wasn't quite as cold as she'd anticipated, a quick thought that made her question if the procured plant was one of the real ones or not. _Likely not with Mr. Safety right here_, she mused silently. She shoved him back gently as she spun around to face him. That lust filled stare told her exactly what he had planned - and for a moment, the thought of complaining seemed totally unrealistic.

"_Killian_," she tried feebly. "You..._ah_, need to get...these centerpieces finished."

"I will," he promised her, reaching for the zipper on the back of her dress and sliding it downward. "But I don't think there's anything wrong with taking a little break."

As he started to slide her dress down her body, he backed away just enough for her to get her bearings. Her expression grew unintentionally playful as toyed with the buttons on his flannel shirt. She had to get the upper hand back somehow. With a smirk, her fingers began a torturously slow process of undoing each button. Emma felt a bit of pride seep into her actions as she watched him take a deep breath as he braced his hands on the work bench while keeping her firmly trapped between his arms.

She loved him like this - the way he'd get that territorial glare while invading her space in a most passionate way. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground at his feet. Emma reached for the waist of his jeans and yanked him a bit closer. The action prompted him to drop his teeth back down onto her neck, kissing and nipping all the way to her collarbone. She gasped and ran her hands up his bare back to his scalp. He groaned a bit at the way she dug her fingers into his hair, pulling a little harder than necessary so he's move his lips back up to hers. The kiss was fierce in a way Emma needed and his fingertips wandered to the back of her dress. He tugged it down her body, pushing it to the floor alongside his shirt as a knowing expression took over his face.

"If I didn't know any better," he began, following the length of her spine with his hands. "I'd say it's _you_ trying to avert my attention this time."

"Well," she breathed, trembling slightly under his touch. "I learn from the best."

He smirked at that, gripping her legs gently and lifting her to the frigid surface of the work bench. Her scorching skin tingled against the cool table and Killian's exploratory fingertips made her quiver just the slightest bit.

"Bloody_ hell_, Swan," he breathed, a thickly accented tone taking over his voice. "I don't know how I could be expected to work under such challenging conditions. But you know, I think you like being a diversion."

"Well, maybe I-"

Her rebuttal died in her throat in the form of a tempted moan and she bit her lip when his lips grazed her shoulder. Killian laughed against her skin, a way he did when he knew he was getting to her - and dammit, he _was_.

"Lucky for _you_, Emma," he taunted in a near whisper. "I can appreciate a worthy distraction."

She felt the slow drag up her skin and it took only a moment to realize that the tormenting friction was that of a flower stem. He moved it up her side, pulling it gently along her collarbone and then carefully down the smooth space between her breasts. Emma couldn't help the way her head dropped back at the touch of the bent petal on her flesh any more than she could stifle the gasp that left her mouth when he followed the calla lily's path with his lips.

"What are you-" she tried, tilting her head when his teeth moved back to graze the space behind her ear. "-trying to do, Jones?"

"I should think that would be _quite_ obvious, love."

Emma closed her eyes at the unexpected action, the plant now trailing up her spine as she gasped softly. The contrast of her heated skin with drops of water fall sporadically from the flower's stem was excruciating and she didn't know how much longer she could take his tedious ministrations.

Killian had used his work against her _many_ times in quite the variety of ways - but _never_ like this. No, _this_ was was a whole new level of intriguing.

She felt her very weak sense of control fading as the petal brushed against her neck in a tickling manner and he set the flower down for a moment, resuming his gentle assault on her lips. Emma knew she needed to gain the upper hand again somehow. Her hands moved to his chest, her dull fingernails tracing the length of his chest and falling to the belt and button of his jeans. She angled her head into the kiss and allowed him to cup the back of her head as she made skilled and quick work of the denim. His pants dropped to the floor near her dress and his boxer briefs followed as he pushed them down his legs swiftly. His movements were firm and calculated, the mark of the man who ravished her on a much more than regular basis. Before Emma knew it, the only place any of their clothes could be located was in a haphazardly thrown pile on the ground - work gloves included.

Emma dropped her head to the side as his teeth moved gently up her neck and down her jaw line. It took a moment for it to register, but there it was - those _damn_ faux flowers. Her mind tried to conjure an idea, struggling through the heated haze he'd created in her mind. Finally, her hands took charge and she lifted a silk calla lily by the stem as she pushed him back oh so lightly. His grip squeezed the edge of the work bench, assisting in anchoring his feet as he gazed down at her with a fire that she'd become all too familiar with. God, this man would be the _death_ of her.

"Swan," he started with hesitant amusement, smiling at the way she twirled the flower between her fingers. "You look as if you're wrestling with an idea - perhaps a rather scandalous one."

"_Maybe_," she replied, glancing up at him from under her dark eyelashes. "Or perhaps I'm just trying to figure out the best way to _distract_ you."

"Is that so?"

Emma nodded, hitching her foot carefully around his leg as she pulled him back to her. She moved to the edge of the table, the coldness of the smooth wood biting a tantalizing friction into the back of her thighs. Killian's expression was curious at first, but it quickly shifted to attentive and almost erotic.

"I think I like the calla lilies," Emma admitted, savoring the way he trembled under the flower's touch along his ribs. "Quite the creative choice, Mr. Florist."

"Yeah - ah," Killian groaned when she pulled the petals across his abs and down to his hipbone. "I thought they'd work well with...the occasion...but I must say that I didn't expect this, love."

It was her turn to smirk and she did so rather teasingly. He bit his lower lip hard as Emma brushed the wetness between her legs against his length, sliding over him several times before moving back just out of his reach. Killian leaned forward, his lips reaching for hers in a desperate attempt. The moment her mouth fused to his, Emma moved the silk calla lily's stem from his waist to the base of his erection. Killian nearly moaned at the sensation, nipping at her lip with anxious teeth. He returned his eyes to hers and the playful demand she found in his glare caused her hand to move without thinking, her slender fingers dragging the bottom of the flower along the hardness between his legs.

"Dear _god_, Emma," he growled, swallowing hard and trying hard to catch his breath.

"Mmmm, you know the stem of this flower-" she retorted, kissing his collarbone. "-is quite thick. Probably strong and maybe quite..._durable_."

"Ah, y-_yes_," Killian stuttered, definitely affected by her innovative torment. "Very flexible and..._god_, easy to...work with."

"Oh, is it?"

Before he could answer, Emma curved the stem loosely around his hard shaft. His breath halted and she grinned as she wondered just how far she could take this. Emma pinched the end of the stem to the top of it where it was holding up the pristine white petals, creating a firm hold on him. Her fingers pulled carefully on the flower, causing it to drag along the entire length of him in a back and forth motion. She had to smirk at the pleading curse that fell from his mouth - the one that told her _exactly_ what his opinion now was regarding calla lilies.

"_You_-" he breathed, a needy expression taking over his features. "-are a bloody tease. Get _over_ here."

He interlocked their fingers as he yanked her close, pulling both of their hands to her lower back so she was forced to drop the flower to the floor. Killian lifted her with skill and she drew her legs around his waist firmly. He didn't take his eyes off hers, knowing exactly where they were going as he turned them around. Taking a couple of short strides and surging forward until Emma's back braced against the wall. She moaned at the contact and Killian jerked, thrusting upward as he entered her. He dropped his forehead against her shoulder and she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, adjusting to his size.

Emma heard his soft gasp as he raised his vision back to hers, his eyes a bold and bright blue. They shared an honest moment - one that meant everything, even if it was in the midst of their insane seduction antics. It reminded her of the look between the two of them the very first time the found themselves in this position. His lips twitched into a sweet smile, triggering an identical one from her. God, she loved him. That thought filled her head and he pushed her hard against the smoothness of the wall.

Killian shoved his hips experimentally into hers, pressing his lips to her jaw and then back into the whirlwind type of kiss he knew she loved. Emma dug her fingernails gently into his shoulder blades as her mouth dropped open in pleasure. Each time he moved, she exhaled hard and pulled him tighter. Bloody _hell_, he was good.

"Swan-"

"_Harder_," she whimpered, letting out a heated sound. "Please, Killian - just..._harder_."

That wicked smile found its way to his otherwise primal expression and he bit down on her shoulder a little more firmly than necessary. Emma moaned, gripping the hair at the back of his head as he continued to grind her into the wall.

"God, Killian..."

"Emma," he shot back, nearly chanting her name. "Emma, _yes_. God, _so_ close. _Please_-"

Losing any sort of control still in her possession, Emma felt the heat spread throughout her entire body as she came with a most sated sound. He jolted up into her twice, letting out a deep breath and a near yell as he followed her. Killian kept moving, rutting his hips against hers for another minute or so before he turned to press his own shoulders into the wall. Still holding her up, he carefully slid his back down the surface until they had collapsed on the floor. He planted his feet so his knees were bent and Emma could remain firmly on top of him. She leaned her forehead against his and they paused to regain some type of composure - although it was quite difficult to consider being composed after _that_. After a few moments of breathing forcefully and fighting for air, Emma leaned back to look at him. His eyes were closed as he exhaled and rested his head against the surface behind him. Moving her the pad of her thumb over her cheek, she coaxed his eyes open. Clever, brazen, and that beautiful _blue_ \- just the way she liked them.

"Have I ever told you-" Emma started softly, punctuating her admission with a kiss. "-how much I _love_ working with you?"

"Well, that's wonderful to hear," he laughed, tickling her back absentmindedly. "Because I love _you_."

"So," she replied with a grin, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Calla lilies huh?"

"Absolutely-" he grinned as he pulled her fingertips to his lips. "-and remind me to _never_ doubt your creative eye again, darling."

* * *

***Hemingway says you should write while drinking, but edit while sober. I may have disobeyed one of these rules so any mistakes are all mine :] Also, I adjusted a few things from the original post...for safety reasons haha.**


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